The Fury Of Desire
by wolfwynd
Summary: Will Christine finally admit to herself what she's known all along? It takes a shock to make her find out.
1. Trials and Escape

The last note struck a chord in Erik and he slammed his hands down, causing the organ to give a loud squeal under the pressure. Slamming the cover down he got up and stalked towards where his fedora was hanging up on the wall, grabbing it he pulled his coat off the the nearby peg and shrugged it on, feeling the air rush past as it billowed behind him in the darkness, he couldn't stand this anymore, even if he had to go through hell, he had to see her, he had to have her. Growling he let impulse take over, something he should have done along time ago, something inside him stirred and told him he was going to enjoy this night.

He knew his way by heart, even in the pitch blackness, his feet finding their way - he had been here so many times, perched high above in the trees, keeping watch over his beloved. It was like a knife in his soul to see her so happy without him but he was still hers completely. Skulking in the shadows he made his way slowly but purposely, tonight was the night, tonight Raoul would not stop him, he would not stop them. Tonight she would plead for his love, tonight she would plead for him. He shivered at the thought, allowed himself to get momentarily lost in the sensations and continued walking, a small grin fixed firmly onto his face as he got closer and closer to the de Chagny residence.

Climbing his usual silver birch which was just outside the room where Christine and Raoul slept he made his perch and looked inside. Immediatly he was aware that somethig was amiss inside the room, the tension almost unbareable even from where he sat outside. Nausea rose at the pit of his stomach and slight fear gripped at his heart as he tried to contemplate what was going on, the dark shadows the only clue to the activities.

Inside the room the air was electric, an argument in full swing - neither giving in, neither backing down. She had tried so hard not to scream it, she had bit her lip so much she had tasted blood but it was all too much - she had shouted his name and was now expecting to pay the price for such blatent betrayal. Raoul stood with his back to her, his fists clenching as he tried to reign his anger under control. Taking a deep breath Christine walked forward, placing a shakey hand upon the shoulder of her husband. Immediatly she jumped back as if he had burned her as he swung dangerously round. "DON'T touch me..." he hissed, the inner battle behind his eyes still raging.

"I'm sorry" Christine managed to choak out, and she was, she was sorry. She was sorry of all the hurt that she had caused him, she was sorry of all the torment she had given him when he had shown her only love and affection. But deep inside even he could see that she did not belong to him, could not belong to him. Christine started to speak again, "But...Erik...he's", that was as far as she got before a hand shot forward and caught her on the cheek, leaving ugly red marks in its wake.

Erik caught the sound of what could be one thing, he had hit her, the sound ringing through the night as clear as day. Without thinking he jumped down from where he stood at his vantage point and sought to gain entry to the property, he would end this madness tonight.

A loud scream pierced the air and Raoul fell to his knees, his hands shaking, the tears falling freely down his face. What had he done? He had hurt the only person whom he loved more than life itself and for what? OVer a man? OVer a name? His name but a name none the less. Taking large, deep breaths he growled deep in the back of his throat and forced himself to open his eyes. When he did he came face to face with Christine who looked at him with a look of pure shock, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide with terror, her hand to her face which was now turning into an ugly purple bruise. Rising to his feet, he took a couple of shaky steps towards Christine and stopped, remorse clear in his eyes, tears running down his cheeks "Christine... I'm sorry..."

"No Raoul... no!" she shouted and she turned and walked out the door.

Erik was irate, anger coursed through his veins and he was shaking. Sweat ran in rivers down his back as he tried desperatly to find a way in which wasn't crawling with servants ready to detect his every movement. He had hit her, he had hit his Christine, his Angel. 


	2. Safety and Anger

Christine stormed out, anger filling her body with an electric she had never known before. She still couldn't believe that she had shouted Erik;s name but she didn't for one moment regret it, infact part of her was quite glad. Gathering what little personal belongings she could she quickly made her way out to the front door where she was greeted by her coachman and horses. Quietly she gave him a sackful of money and said "To the Opera Populaire" The coach driver gazed at her with confusion at such a request but wisely said nothing and took up residence on the coach, and giving the command that ushered them off into the darkness.

Aware of the horses hooves Erik snapped his head up quickly, no, she couldn't be... that couldn't be... panic seized his heart, she would reach his liar before him and then she would find him not there and what would she do then? Would she stay? Would she wait for him? Or would she leave again? Somewhere where he couldn't reach her? Taking a deep breath and trying to push all his uncertainty to the back of his mind he ran towards the front of the house, not caring now who saw him - all he was thinking about was reaching his lair before her.

Suddenly he had a brain wave, de Chagny had an extensive stable full of white horses, some of which had been bred from true champions - light on their feet, fast on the ground. Skulking around to where he knew the stable lay due to his explorations before he opened the door which gave with a soft squeal. Wincing slightly he held his breath his black cloak giving him some cover from any persons still present in the stable. Finding no resistance he made his way inside, using his supirior night tiime vision to find his way around, walking slowly as not to startle the lone horse which was in the far corner of the stable.

He was in luck, obviously the horse had just been ridden and groomed and stood tethered to a nearby hook. In one fluid motion he had taken the reigns off the hook and jumped on - forgoing the need for a saddle. Digging into the sides gently but firmly he was able to get some speed, and before long the ominous brown figure of the coach was a speck in the distance. A small smile of satisfaction crossed over his lips and he continued on his way, increasingly hopeful that he would reach and pass the coach before long without being seen. The wind caused his cloak to billow behind him, casting shadows onto the floor and onto the trees beside him, making him seem alot bigger than he actually was, he acknowledge this with a slight chuckle. With each passing minute he grew closer and closer, and soon he was close enough to see the shape of his beloved.

Christine lay dozing in the back of the carridge, it had taken alot out of her, the argument, the anger, the relief at finally getting out of there, but still she pined for the man she left behind - not through the loss of love, but through the loss of friendship, a friendship which she held dear to her heart. Steeling herself, she continued to doze, revelling in the warmth of her cloak and thinking about what Erik would say when she turned up on his doorstep. Would be happy? Would he be angry? Would he welcome her with open arms or would he cast her out into the darkness? She shivered at the thought and pushed it to the back of her mind.

Suddenly she was aware of a shadow moving past, she looked up to be greeted with a flash of white, and amber looking in her direction as the shadow moved and then disappeared into thin air. She shook her head, no, it couldn't be... it was his eyes, she would know them anywhere... but why... how...! Fear startled her and she stared out into the darkness, trying to keep her feelings under control, whilst still trying to make sense of what had happened, of what was still to happen.

Erik cursed himself, she had not gotten a proper look at him but enough of one to make the conversation when they met in the liar at least mildly interesting. Taking a deep breath he let a growl out which echoed in the night, breaking the otherwise silent refrain. Still he continued on, spuring the horse onwards until finally he had reached his destination. Quickly divesting himself of the horse he managed to open the gate of the Rue Scribe and lead the horse in, locking the door almost silently behind. Lighting a near-by candle he always kept for such purposes he tied the horse up and left it with some food and water. Sighing after the exertion of the nights ride he made his way down to his lair where he knew by now Christine would surely be waiting for him.

Christine shivered, partly from the cold, partly from the tension that ran through her body. She strained herself for every little last sound and jumped when she recognised the dull footsteps of someone coming towards her, the light baring witness before finally a shadow emerged. "Madame de Chagny, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he drawled quietly, allowing himself to slip seamlessly into the comfort that sarcasm and aloofness around her brought - as much a defense mechanism for himself rather than to spare her the surge of emotions that being in her presence aroused in him.

"You followed me..." Christine blurted out suddenly "You knew I was coming... I saw you..." she continued, almost mumbling now as she cursed herself for saying it so abruptly.

"And so what if I did, do I not have the right to walk around above ground as you seem to take such pleasure in with your precious Vicomte?" Christine stared at him, a look of anger in her eye, the stubborn streak which he had seen before now coming to the fore - it was going to be an interesting night, for both of them. 


	3. Anger and Love

"Don't look at me like that Christine! What the hell did you expect me to say? Do you have any idea what its like for me? Down here, on my own... minutes drift into days...days into weeks and before I know it weeks have gone by in a haze with only memories Christine... memories" Tears rimmed his eyes but he fought them back and he continued; "Everytime I close my eyes you are all I see, you are my every waking thought Christine... my everything" His unshead tears fell now and his breathing became shallow, pain and anxiety clear in his eyes. Reaching forward he took one of her hands in his and whispered; "I love you..."

Christine's resolve wavered slightly but she steeled herself for what she was about to say, he needed to know this, she needed to say it. "I love you too Erik, I always have..."

Erik was stunned, he looked at her, confusion framed his face and the word "What" formed on his lips but the words wouldn't come.

"Do you know why he hit me Erik?" Erik shook his head slowly, afraid of what the answer would be but wanting it with a passion he had never known. Could he possibly believe what she was about to say... could it possibly be... was he dreaming? He closed his eyes and held his breath, awaiting her response. "It was your name... do you know what its like to sleep next to a man every night that you don't love? To have him deep inside you and think of another? To have to bite your lip so hard that it BLED to stop yourself from screaming that name into the darkness... your name into the darkness..."

Christine fell then, but at once he was there, his strong arms catching her and pulling her close to his body. Shivering at the closeness he held her for a moment there before gently turning her round to face him, pulling her close so her head was buried in his chest. Carefully, he whispered to her; "Please tell me you mean that Christine, please say that I am not dreaming because I can't do it again... I can't go through each day wanting you so much it hurts only to be left alone when you decide you want to go to Raoul. If I'm dreaming please God kill me now because I cannot go through another day without you by my side..."

"I love you Erik, I am and always will be yours" came Christine's voice, her breath hot against his chest, causing the heat to radiate throughout his body and again something stirred in his soul. Lifting her head slowly she was caught off guard as Erik's lips crushed hers, taking her breath and leaving her reeling.

Tears mixed with passion as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, moaning and pulling her even closer. His hands ran through her hair, pushing her head closer to him, Christine made small noises in the back of her throat at she allowed him to take control of the situation, allowing herself to get lost in the sensations he was assaulting her with. Christine let out a scream as she found herself on her back within a matter of second, quite impressed to how fast she had gotten there. Erik chuckled, a deep throaty chuckled which sounded slightly strained. Christine opened her eyes at the sound, grinning back at the man who looked dileriously happy above her. Tears still rimmed his eyes and Christine reached up to wipe them away with her thumb, he smiled and nuzzeled against her hand as she did this.

Christine sighed happily and gazed at the man above her, a grin plastered his face from ear to ear, laughing at the spectle that was so rare to the human eye she couldn't help but reach up and place a kiss gently on his lips. Before she could pull away however she was caught in his grip once more, pulling her closer and again kissing her breathless. After several minutes Erik broke the kiss and stared deep into her eyes - his amber eyes conveying more emotion and tenderness than even he could express with his music. His eyes, full of such sorrow, such longing and passion - the world bore false witness to this man who really was a fallen angel.

Christine reached up, stroking the coolness of his mask with the back of her hand. Suddenly he guided her hand to the back, where the ribbon of his mask lay, she searched his eyes for an explanation and finding only trust she slowly began undoing the knot which held his mask in place, it came off in her hand and placed it on the ground beside her.

"Past the point of no return..." he whispered softly.

"I love you Erik, all of you, mask or no mask you will always be beautiful to me" Christine replied, her eyes backing up the meaning ten-fold.

"Thank you" he started, and tears came again.

"For what?" Christine said, looked at him confused.

"For loving me..." he choaked out, pulling himself down, settling his elbows on the ground the stop from putting all of his weight onto her. Burying his head in the crook of her shoulder she held him whilst he wept anew, everything he had ever known vanquished into the depths of eternity with the touch of this woman who had saved him not only from the world but from himself. 


	4. Love and Passion

They lay like this for what seemed like forever, Erik almost silently weeping and Christine running her hands through his hair and across his back, whispering words of love and compassion to the man who was her lover, her best friend and her soul mate.

"Ssssssh my love" she cooed, listening to him like this was making her heart break. Using a free hand she snaked it underneath his chin and caressed it lovingly. He slowly lifted his head up to look at her, his eyes darkened with emotion. A tear fell down his cheek and she brushed it away with her thumb, Erik closed his eyes as she did this, enjoying the feeling of her hands upon him, he smiled softly and turned to look upon her again.

Christine ran her hand down across his collar bone and up the back of his neck and through his hair, and smiled slyly when Erik shivered involuntarily. Erik growled in the back of his throat and caught her eyes - the sadness of earlier quickly turning into something more, his eyes clouding over slightly as she continued her ministrations. Suddenly grabbing the back of his head she pulled him in for a kiss which surprised him but made him growl again - a deep sound which was even now slightly strained.

He let her take control of the kiss, letting her play her game at control for as long as his self control would last. She kissed him deeper, parting his lips with her tongue and seeking entrance. He complied almost immediately, trying not to get lost but he knew resistance woud be futile - no one could effect him like she could, no one had power over him like Chrstine. He let his hands roam across her body, ghosting everywhere he could reach, feather-like touches that he knew would drive her mad. Closing her eyes quickly and swallowing Christine continued to keep composure, but still Erik's methodical yet insistant touch continue until without warning she found herself on her back as Erik loomed down on her. Erik grinned down at her and said softly; "As much as I loved playing your game my dear, you and I both know I am not a very patient man" he added with a chuckle that caused Christine to laugh too.

He bent her head and kissed her again, she could still taste the salt of his tears as she opened her mouth to his invading tongue, she greeted this with a loud moan which was quickly covered by his mouth. Erik parted Christine's legs with his thigh and let his leg rest there, whilst still kissing her passionatly. He let out a small growl as he was suddenly aware that she had snaked her hand downwards to where their bodies met, stroking him underneath his trousers. Breaking the kiss he said, his voice cracking slightly;

"Keep doing that my love and believe me, this night will be very short indeed"

Christine giggled and a blush rose slowly across her face, the candlelight highlighting her features perfectly and taking Erik's breath away as he gazed lovingly at her - his eyes full of love and longing and passion but a melancholy that seemed as old as time. The world saw him as a killer - of life, of love, of anything decent and good but to her he was just Erik. Christine could not resist bringing her head up to kiss him on the lips again but she was quickly but deftly psuhed back down and before she knew it he had pinned her hands high above her head - holding them with one hand knowing she would put up no resistance against how he held up. Christine grinned, exhiliarated, and slightly nervous at what was going to happen. This time it was he who bent his head, catching her lips with his and kissing her passionately, using his free hand to lightly work his way down the side of her neck and cup her left breast. She arched under his touch, realising a small moan that was music to his ears. He moved his lips down the her neck, running his tongue across her jawline before suckling on a small spot between where her neck and shoulder met, enjoying every sound she made under his firm but soft carresses.

His hand moved up to her nipple, encircling it under her dress until it was fully hardened, he felt her shudder slightly and she arched herself even more to his touch, the touch driving her mad but yet she could not bare to tell him to stop - she could not - she'd die if he did.

"Erik... please..." she managed to get out, coming out more as a moan than actual words. Her growled at her need for him and knew he could never deny her anything. Snaking his hand around he managed to undo her dress, lifting her up and out of it in one fluid moment. He gazed down at her, letting his eyes drink every little last detail of her body in. He ran his tongue across her collar bone and down slowly to her right breast and capturing the nipple quickly, sucking gently and running his tongue over it. Christine let out a loud cry and arched up once more, meeting his mouth with an almost fervent passion she had never felt before.

"Erik...please..." - again the plea came, forced out into conciousness almost desperatly now. Her body was on fire and the more he touched her, the more she needed him. Letting go of her hands he made light work of his trousers, throwing thek behind him where they landed with a dull thud. She could feel his hardness on her thigh and she shivered. He positioned himself between her thighs and quickly snapped his head up to look at his beloved - her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open and a fine sheen of sweat was starting to develop over her body. Aware she was being watched Christine opened her eyes and immediately caught Erik's gaze - his eyes, the amber almost driven totally aware by his pupils, his look a silent message for that which he could not speak aloud - he was asking permission. Slowly Christine nodded, not sure whether she could form words.

Needing no second invitation he entered her slowly, letting out a hiss of breath as he did so. When he was fully inside he stayed still, allowing Christine to get used to him and allowing him to gather his senses together. Then, in the haze of his thoughts he was aware that she was moving against him, slowly at first but picking up speed as she wrapped her legs around him, pushing him deep. Each of the gasped at the deeper pentration and again they were still, basking in the feelings that being joined had brought them - each as amazed as the other. Looking down at her she nodded her head once more and he started to move, establishing a rhythm that suited them both, letting out moans and cries as they neared climax.

"Look at me Erik" came the silky voice of his lover. Erik managed to slowly open his eyes as he continued to thrust into her, getting closer and closer to sweet oblivion, he struggled to keep his eyes open and only shut them briefly before she repeated the command again; "Look at me Erik" and again he opened his eyes, amazed at her self control as she pushed him deeper and deeper. He could tell Christine was close - her breath came in ragged gasps but still her eyes remained open, staring up at him with a quiet respect. Suddenly Christine let out a loud cry, screaming his name into the night as she saw colours and tightened around him, tipping him over the edge almost immediately.

Erik stayed perfectly still and tried to gather his thoughts together, bliss filled every fibre of his body and he wanted nothing but to be where he was forever and a day. If he died now, he would die happy knowing he had tasted heaven, and her name was Christine. Even before he opened his eyes he could feel the soft heat falling freely down his cheeks knew he hadn't been able to contain his emotions completely. Opening his eyes slowly he gazed at Christine who lay in the same state of bliss as he, a smile forming on her delicate lips. Bending his head he kissed her gently and she opened her eyes. Neither wanted to part but reluctantly he pulled out of her and pulled her to him, her head resting on his chest as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, together and complete. 


	5. Fun and Games

Christine lazily opened her eyes and shivered at the sudden chill that ran over her from the cold. She looked down to see the sleeping form of her lover in all his glory and smiled at the picture of calmness. Erik had managed to hug himself to her body during the night and lay with his arms around her body with a possessiveness that even now plesantly surprised her. Slowly she ran her fingers down through his hair, across his neck and as far down his back as she could reach - feather like touches which caused him to stir and moan softly as he opened his eyes.

"Morning" Christine smiled down, giggling slightly at his mussed up hair which made him seem younger than his years.

"Morning mon ange" came his reply, his voice still heavy with sleep, a slight look of confusion on his face - never before had he ever felt such complete bliss as waking up in her arms. They lay like this for a while, both trying to get their barings, reliving memories of last night as each got lost in their own private world of feelings and thoughts, each with a contented smile on their faces.

After a while Christine was aware of movement below her, Erik slowly raised himself up from where he lay, stretching with a audible crack as his muscles released their tension of being in the same place. Raising himself up onto his knees he placed a soft kiss on Christine's lips before getting fully up and replacing the cover over Christine. Steadily he walked over to the other side of the room and placed on his trousers which still lay in the same disguarded pile as last night. He grinned overto where Christine lay, a calmness in his eyes and his manner that was not always obvious in a man who liked to keep his emotions as cloaked as his intentions.

"Tea mon ange?" he whispered, the grin still plastering his face like the proverbial cat of old.

Christine nodded and was rewarded by the soft click of the door as it opened and shut leaving her on her own, for the while at least. She could hear him humming as he rattled around the kitchen, a deep song that told of elation and jubilation - he was happy, she had caused his happiness and it seemed her heart would burst out of her chest through sheer love and pride for him. A single tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away lest more should follow. Carefully she stretched and yawned, before getting up and searching around the room for something to wear to protect from the cold. She quickly came across Erik's disguared white shirt and slipped it on over her head - his scent filling her senses as if he was beside her and a familiar ache started in her stomach. Oh how she loved this man - oh how she wanted him.

She laid back under the covers and wrapped herself up in his shirt and started to doze again, sleep tugging at her as she allowed herself to drift back into her memories of last night once more. He found her like this, smiling as he saw her asleep, wrapped almost entriely in his shirt - she looked so pure, so perfect, so his. He placed the tea on a near-by Carefully walking over to her, he sat down, the bed sagging as it took his weight, he looked at her again for a moment before reaching over and kissing her forehead. Christine opened her eyes, startled and smiled before pulling his head towards hers again, catching his lips with hers and kissing him passionatly, if still slightly sleepy.

Erik broke the kiss and went to where the tea was left and handed a cup to Christine who took it gratefully and took a sip of it before looking at Erik who was still gazing at her in quiet awe, still awkward when it came to women - although you wouldn't have guessed it by the way he acted last night - Christine giggled to herself before motioning towards Erik who came and knelt down beisde her. He looked at her quizzically and Christine laughed again,

"What is it mon ange?" Erik said, a chuckle in his throat.

"Nothing..." Christine giggled back, a slow blush starting around her cheeks and falling down her body, a stark contrast to the white of his shirt which she still kept tight around her small frame which was all but lost in the fabric.

"What is it mon ange?" he repeated again, the amuzement clear in his voice

"Nothing..." Christine repeated, it quickly turning into a full blown voice which made Erik get to his feet and slowly push her onto the bed, pinning her hands high above her head as she giggled below him, helpless in more way than one, her voice becoming more strained as she struggled to breathe from the laughter and the lust which ran through her veins for the man who held her willingly captive. He ran his tongue across her collar bone, along where the collar met her neck, granting him another moan as a reward for his efforts. He was determined to get it out of her, and he wondered absently whether she was as impatient as he was as he captured her lips again and kissed her with all the passion he could manage. 


	6. Forever and a Day

Laughter rang out around the bedroom as Erik held her softly but firmly, her hands still held high above her head. Every now and again Christine would struggle playfully against his restraint but this only elicted an almost delighted chuckle from the man above her. Erik bent down and kissed her forehead before running his tongue to her ear and gently sucking her earlobe which caused Christine to moan audibly, a grin breaking out across Erik's features as quick as wildfire.

Next he ran his tongue to the sweet spot behind her ear and across her jawline almost perfectly. When he reached her lips he ran his tongue over her bottom lip before taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently, exchanging playful nibbles. Another moan escaped Christine's lips which caused Erik to growl softly at the rising tension between them both. Again he kissed her, the heat rising sharply between them, the air electric, raw passionate and contageous. He asked permission silently with his tongue and she gave it, accepting it fully as they continued the age old duel of dominence.

Erik's hands let go of her wrists suddenly and snaked round to the back of her head, gaining in confidence as time went on - all the time memorising every curve, every moan, every little noise which escaped her. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes - his amber eyes mirroring her brown ones, the colour almost completely invaded by the blackness of their pupils. Both stared at each other, each still completely memorised by the other - their breathing shallow and ragid.

"I love you Christine" he whispered, almost inaudilby but Christine caught it, she would never forget it for as long as she lived. She was his as much as he was hers - she knew this now. God how could she have denied him? How could she have denied herself?

"...and I you Erik, my one, my only" came the reply. She placed a soft kiss onto his lips, carressing the marred side of his face. Erik closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her on his face, such a soft touch which could inspire the fire within his soul like no other.

"Christine..." he hissed, as her hands moved lower down his chest which was still bare having foregoing his shirt earlier. She pushed against Erik lightly urging her to straighten up, following immediatly afterwards. Bending down slightly she ran her tongue across his chest until she reached his stomach before moving back up and around his right nipple. He let out a moan and growled once more as she continued to tease him. Her hands joined in now, she ran them softly across his stomach muscles as they contracted slightly in response to her cafeful, feather-like touches.

"Christine..." he said again, self control evapourating quickly as she continued downwards down his stomach. She reached down to the waistband of his trousers, his need for her obvious beneath the cotton. She hooked her fingers inside and pulled it slightly letting it go, slightly surprised to hear the moan that followed. She raised her eyebrow and looked up at Erik. His eyes were closed and he was biting his lip, his head back slightly, his breathing heavy - so unlike the man most other people knew.

She unbutton his trousers, letting them pool at his knees. Erik, with difficulty rose, divesting himself fully and placing them on the floor down by the side of the bed. In one fluid motion he had taken his shirt off Christine's body and both lay bare to one another. Taking his index finger he dragged it slowly across her jawline, down her neck and down between her breasts. Dipping his head he followed the patten with his tongue, repaying her favour of earlier and trying to regain some of his self control that with her seemed to evaporate immediately under her touch.

He guided her onto her back and covered her body with his, savouring the feel of her skin against his. Moving against her he could feel her need as she could feel his - both nearly at breaking point now. Erik's eyes were like wildfire, the candlelight catching them - the windows his very soul seemed aflame with love, desire and need for her.

He entered her slowly, both giving an almost startled gasp at being joined. Mind, body and soul seemed to blend together as they established a rhythm, Christine meeting each firm but gentle thrust almost perfectly. Christine wrapped her legs around him quickly and pushed him deeper, Erik growling almost primally in the back of his throat as she did so. Never had they ever felt so complete, never had they been so content as when they were one, and as he thrust into her he saw his future, his love, his life with the woman who had been waiting for so long for. A tear made its way slowly down his face, emotion getting the better of him as he contined, slow, steady, patient.

"I love you Christine" he choked out, laying his head on her shoulder as she pushed him further and further in, driving them both near crazy. "I love you" he reapeated, the words coming strained now as he drew near to oblivion. Christine's eyes were closed, her breathing shallow, moans issuing each time he thrust. She drove him deeper and cried out his name as he pushed her over the edge. With one last thrust he joined her, biting slightly into her shoulder to stop him from crying her name to the Opera House above.

"I love you" he whispered once more, tears coming fully now, hot as they trickled down his face and onto her chest. He pulled out and she pulled him up to her, holding him close and she wept - for him, for them, for all the time they had missed and all the time they still had. Sleep came quickly once more, safe in the knowledge that eternity awaited them, but even in the back of their mind they knew that they still had a long way to go before they could truely be free - neither of them could forget the shadow that hung over them - Raoul DeChagny. 


	7. From here to Eternity

Days passed quickly, and before either of them knew it 6 weeks had passed in a fitful haze. She lit up his days and he her nights, spent together in each others arms as complete as they had ever known. Then one night Erik surprised Christine by producing a silk scarf and said that they were going out. Humouring him slightly she allowed him to come forward towards her, but her heart was in her mouth with anticipation, what was he planning to do?

Erik tied the silk scarf around her head and lead her carefully to the side of the lake and helped her get into the boat. As he pulled them along he would cast glances backwards rhythmically to check that she still had it on and wasn't peeking, he thanked the gods that she couldn't see the look of utter nervousness that lined his face, his heart beating furiously in his chest, sweat starting the break out on his brow.

The journey passed mainly in silence, only once or twice did Christine raise a question as to where they were going and why he had denied her her sight for the journey - he had silenced her with the immortal words "Good things come to those who wait my love", he was slightly surprised at the eveness of his voice seeing as his body was betraying him. Never before had her ever been so nervous, even with his mother's rejection, the beatings at the hand of his former guardians were nothing compared to the sheer emotions that ran through his body at what he was about to do.

Finally they had reached the other side, he had everything taken care of, he just needed to keep his nerve. Extending his hand he guided hers into his and grasped her body to him, trying to will himself to stop the shakes that ran within. He walked her slowly up the long stairwell and to where he had first saw Chrisine - the mirror which was a blessing and a curse. Flipping the mechanism the mirror swung open and they stepped out, the mirror closing quickly behind her. It was nearly 11:30pm and the opera was silent, even the mice seemed to sleep as they slipped out as quickly as shadows passing in the night.

Like clockwork a carriage was waiting outside, the brown horses still in the moonlight that shone above, casting light on everything, giving it a glow which seemed to calm Erik slightly - a doorman stood straight, waiting for instructions, tipping his hat as he saw Erik and Christine. "You know where to go" Erik said quietly, the doorman nodded, tipped his hat and got on board, ready for the journey. Erik, guided Christine into the carriage and shut the door, banging on the roof sharply which was the signal to move off. Almost immediately the carriage driver gave the command and the horses started forward with a sharp jolt which caused them both to gasp involutarily. Soon the carriage established a gentle rhythm and Erik was able to collect his voice - his planned speech going completely out of his head as he tried to think. Christine picked up on his unease which had grown since they left the liar and whispered quickly; "Are you okay my love?"

"Y...yes of course, say no more mon ange" he stuttered, caught unawares by the voice that brought him out of his thoughts.

He gazed over at her and his heart swelled with love, she was beautiful. He had told her that they were going out and that she should dress appropriatly but nothing else but what she wore now took his breath away. A dark red dress hugged her form almost perfectly, flaring out at the bottom as velvet joined lace and ran right down to the black shoes that she wore around her ankles. Her dark brown soft against her features, he had been careful when tieing the scarf round not to muss it up. She was his angel in every sense of the word - his love, his life, his soul and saviour and he would surely die if she were to leave him.

Suddenly he was aware of the coach slowling down and he knew they were close. Patting his pocket he made sure he had everything. Taking one last deep breath to steady his nerves - he couldn't back out now, he loved her more than life itself and he thank the gods again that they had chosen him for this blessing. Rising up to standing he lowered himself out of the carriage before reaching his hands out to grasp hers and pull her to him, embracing her firmly but tenderly, he placed a small kiss on her lips before taking one hand in his own and guiding her along the moonlit path, to where a small lake surrounded by tall trees stood. Taking another deep breath the calm his rising heartbeat, a lump forming in his throat as it hit him that this really was the point of no return, for him, for them.

Pulling her close to him close to her again he snaked his hands around to the back of her head and hesitated momentarily, thinking of the right words. "Christine... I... you are everything to me, you are my heart, my soul, my song. When I'm with you there is nothing but me and you, the whole world could fall tomorrow and I would die happy because I have tasted heaven and I..." he undid the scarf, letting it fall to the floor before bending down, onto one knee, reaching inside his pocket and produce a small, blood red box.

Looking up from where he knelt, a look a sheer terror evident in his eyes know, he felt like a little boy at the feet of a goddess. "...and I..." he started again, swallowing to get the moisuture back into his rapidly drying mouth; "I would be honoured if you would do me the honour of being mine forever and a day" he finished quickly before the tears started to fall. He quickly lowered his head, staring at the dark pavement, the moonlight bouncing off the top of his head brilliantly, he braced himself for the answer, his whole body bunched up, life and death rested on this answer and they both knew it.

"Erik" Christine whispered softly. He lifted his head slowly, so afraid to look into her eyes, the tears still falling down his cheeks, catching the moonlight and making them seem like diamond. "I love you, I have always loved you and I will love if you would do ME the honour of being mine forever" she grinned broadly as he got to his feet and swept her off hers, spinning her round in the darkness, laughter breaking forth through his tears as it hit him just what she had said - she would be his, forever and a day she would be his.

Kissing her passionatly he placed the ring on her finger, the silver setting off the onyx which was as black as night - not unlike his own that which he wore on his little finger. He kissed her again, took her gently by the wrist and together they walked up the rest of the path, taking in the moonlight, the gorgeous surrounding and the feelings of being irreversbily in love. 


	8. Before The Vows

Counterpoint ERIK-

The sun rose over the horizon and Erik opened his eyes, a slight pain imparing his senses. He reached over to where Christine normally lay next to him and then realised she wasn't there - having chosen to sleep at Madame Giry's to perserve the tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding, even with Erik's pleas. He took a deep breath and swallowed nervously - today was his wedding day. Letting out a worried groan he pulled the silk covers back and his feet hit the cold floor with a wince. Pulling on his robe he padded into the kitchen, his head running away with him.

"Good Morning" came Nadir's cultured voice, handing him a freshly prepared cup of tea. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Never better Nadir..." Erik's voice cracking slightly, this giving him away to the man who stood infront of him. Taking a thoughtful sip of the tea he steadied his nerves and looked at Nadir, trying to keep his emotions in check "Everything ready?" he said quietly, having called in several favours off his old friend in the 2 months since Christine had promised herself to him. Nadir had managed to ask a Vicar to perform the rights, paying him handsomly for the privalidge. The venue was set to be a little church just outside Paris, the vicar presiding having the pefect parish for such a ceremony - although truth be told her would have gone to the ends of the earth for her if she would only be his for even a minute.

"Yes mon amis - the vicar, the church, the transport - everything as you said. The carriage will be here for you in 2 hours, I suggest you go and get ready, your suit is in there" Nadir motioned towards Christine's room, the door slightly ajar. Nodding he walked almost silently into the next room, shutting the door with a soft click.

A smile crossed his features as he saw his suit, Christine picking it out for him on one of her trips to Paris with Meg and Madame Giry. It was pure black, with black embroidary down the lapels, shiney silver buttons ran down the length and the tails ran all the way down to his mid knees. The shirt was white, the front open, the white linen crisp, laid on top of his suit jacket. A midnight blue waistcoat completed the look - not a colour he would normally wear but was surprised to see that it brought the amber of his eyes out perfectly.

Walking over to a bowl which was already filled with water he took off his robe and rinsed his face, his neck and underneath his arms before towelling himself dry and walking back over to where his clothes lay neat and tidy. Placing the white linen over his head, adjusting it so that the neckline lay just above where his chest met his stomach. He let out a little laugh and rolled his eyes as he saw that most of his chest was on view, and only Christine would have had the nerve to send him this shirt. Next came his wasitcoat, the silver buttons catching the candle light as he placed it on, careful to keep everything creaseless. Then he placed on his trousers, they fell just below his ankles and fitted him perfectly. Finally the jacket, the tails billowing slightly behind him as they fell downwards towards the floor. He finally settled the white mask onto his face, which was now like a second skin to him.

Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath, and was surprised to feel something inside his pocket. Reaching inside her pulled out a nore, carefully folded, his name on the front in Christine's familar writing;

Dearest Erik,

You will never know how happy you made me the day you said that you would be mine, I thought I had lost you for good when I was foolish enough to leave you for Raoul. I thank the gods every day that you excepted me back and until the day I die you will be my love, my life, my one and my all. Thank you for being mine and thank you for loving me...

Yours Eternally,

Christine.

The ink ran as he stared at it and only after a moment did he realise he was crying. His heart swelled with love at her words and he found himself grinning broadly. No, Christine... thank you for being mine...

Coutnerpoint CHRISTINE-

Meg knocked lightly on the door, afraid she'd wake up her friend but she had been awake for hours, nerves finally getting the better of her as she tried to rest.

"Come in" Christine said, staring at the dress which was laid out on the back of the chair on the right side of the room, the silk shimmering in the early morning light. A thoughtful look crossed her face as it hit her just how important today was, how much she had wished for this since she had left him the first time, the surrealness of this occasion not lost on her.

Meg entered with a broad smile on her face. "Christine, you are not dressed and we've much to do - your hair, your clothes, your make-up!" Her enthusiasm was infectious and soon Christine felt calmer and smiled broadly, as Meg helped her gather everything she would need together. Meg held open the dress and Christine slipped into it, gasping slightly as the coldness of the zip hit her as Meg did it up. Next came her hair, teasing it into shape, her perfect curls falling over the dress and catching the light, bringing up the red which ran throughout.

Had he got her letter? Christine pondered, she hated to leave him but tradition dictated. Nerves ran throughout her body as she tried to remember her vows, pulling out the piece of paper they were written on and reading them over again. Never before had she felt so nervous but never before had she felt so alive, so wanted, so loved as she did with this man. Words could never explain just what she felt for him but she had eternity with which to start. A sharp knock came on the door and Madame Giry's voice sounded on the otherside;

"Christine, the carriage is here, are you ready?" taking a deeo breath both she and Meg answered in the positive and the door was opened to reveal Madame Giry - her familiar black dress replaced by another of dark blue, the light catching it magnificantly and making her seem younger than her years. He familiar hat sat on her head and her cane in hand, she, like everyone else was grinning broadly at the thought of what was going to happen. She considered Christine as a daughter and was pleased to be 'giving her away' because of the loss of her father. Gazing lovingly at her she took in her features. Her white dress simple yet affective, perfectly outlining her slender but curved frame. She smiled proudly and followed her out to where the carriage was waiting. Eternity began here. 


	9. I Do

The coach started off and Erik started with a jump, amazed at just how nervous he was now. All the time he had spent wishing for Christine to be his and now it was actually coming to pass the surrealness hit him - What if she ran? What if she was having second thoughts? What if this was all a dream and he would soon come to back in his layer, cold and alone? What about the Fop! He cursed himself mentally, in his haste to book the day he had totally forgotten to have people to keep Raoul at bay. He growled and sent a plea up that no matter what happened, the boy would NOT spoil this day. Nadir looked at Erik strangely - "You are not well my friend?" he said, concern tinging his voice.

"I am fine Nadir" Erik spat out and instantly regretted his tone of voice. Taking a deep breath he steadied himself and apologised for his outburst, lowering his head slightly to ask forgiveness of the man who had done so much for him, both now and in the past.

"Nerves get the best of us sometimes Erik, don't worry, nothing will spoil today" Erik notcied the slight exaggeration on the word "nothing" and smiled softly to himself. Maybe he was foolish worrying about the boy but he could never underestimate a young man in love - afterall he himself would go through fire and brimestone for the woman he loved.

Erik spent the rest of the journey with his eyes closed, a quiet calm radiated from him which bore false witness to his mind that was reeling. What would today bring? Both men were completely lost in their thoughts, neither say anything to one another for fear of their own feelings coming tumbling out. Erik nervous beyond all belief now, so afraid and yet so alive, so ready and yet so scared of things he could not possibly control, not here, not now.

The carriage stopped and both men were abruptly brought from their thoughts, gazing around as if they had been awoken from a deep slumber. Taking a deep breath Nadir gave Erik a rose to place in his button hole, opened the door to the carriage and slowly stepped out.

The sun framed the trees around the church perfectly, casting everything in a soft glow that seemed to radiate from heaven itself. A bird sang somewhere up above and its mate answered almost immediately afterwards. Turning around to face Erik who had gotten out of the carriage and stood in awe of the specticle in front of him. It had been so long since he had been outside in the day and he was like a child seeing it for the first time.

"It is time my friend" came Nadir's quiet voice, and Erik looked at him deep in the eyes with slight hesitation.

"What if..." he started, unable to finish the question as he continued to stare hopelessly, his amber eyes seeking confidence in Nadir's chocolate ones.

"You don't see it do you Erik?" said Nadir, calmly as if he was talking to a child; "You are all she sees, you light up her darkness as she lights up your days. When you and Christine are together the whole of the world could end and there will still only be you and her. Allah has smiled upon you Erik, take the chance, go to her." He placed his hand onto Erik's shoulder and squeezed slightly, punctuating his words.

They walked together up to the church and nodded in greeting to the Vicar who stood outside, his red robes glistening in the sunlight, a book opened in his hand, smiling he nodded back. They all went inside and walked to the altar slowly, again lost in their own thoughts.

Their wait was short lived as about 10 minutes the door opened slightly. Erik looked nervously and the vision he saw took his breath away. Christine walked in first, closely followed by Meg and Madame Giry. Her hair, like silk framed her features, her dress - she looked every inch the angel that he loved more than life itself. Erik's jaw dropped slightly, and quickly he got his emotions under control, radiating the quiet coolness that he had learnt over the years. Christine walked slowly towards him, her smile soft and shy - she was obviously just as nervous as him, only not as able to hide it. Finally they stood side by side and Christine took his hand in in hers, squeezing slightly in a sign of love and affection and maybe trying to calm both their nerves - Erik couldn't tell for sure.

The vicar nodded towards them and they nodded in return.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in Paradise, and into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. I believe you each have your own vows?"

Both Erik and Christine nodded. "Monseuir, if you please"

Turning towards Christine, Erik took a deep breath and cleared his throat, swallowing as he did so... past the point of no return had never been so true.

"I Erik, do take thee Christine to be my wife. Since I first saw you there has been no other, now I have you there will never be another. To put your needs before mine often and never ask for more than you can give. To bring joy to, strength, smiles, and imagination into our marriage. To work to build a strong marriage and never loose it. To give all of me to you,to never give up, and to finish what i am starting. To be foever faithful, from this day on, till my heart beats no more. To spend my life trying to make you as happy as you make me by being here. My love, my life, my music...forever and a day."

Erik swallowed again, closed his eyes and lowered his head, afraid that if he didn't the tears would come again.

"Madamoselle, if you please"

Christine looked up at the man infront of her, trying to meet his eyes. Eventually he looked at her and deep into his eyes she uttered these words.

"I Christine, do take thee Erik to be my husband. When I first met you it seemed as if my world was as crazy as it could be. It wasn't long before I realized that I loved you and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Every time I see you it inspires me to be the best woman I can be for you and for us. Something I share with you is a lifetime dream that we will be together forever and someday have beautiful children to show for our faithfulness and affection for one another. I have learned from you that I don't have to be perfect to be loved. You gave me the ability to feel like I've never felt before and knowing that I will feel that way for the rest of my life gives me more happiness than I could ever imagine. Our love is unique in a way that most people will never get to experience. I look forward to being with you every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep you will no longer be a dream but also a reality. My Erik, my love, everything I have is yours."

The church was silent, everyone in quiet awe at the power of the vows that they had just witness.

The vicar spoke again: "Therefore if any man can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

At the back of the church a shadow moved, unseen by anyone. A man bit on his lip so hard that before long he could taste his own blood. Bile rose up in the back of his throat as he heard the vows and those words and his hands gripped hard on his sword, doing everything in his power not to cry out in anguish. Now was not the time, he would make them pay...

"Bless these Rings, O merciful Lord, that those who wear them, that give and receive them, may be ever faithful to one another, remain in your peace, and live and grow old together in your love" - the gold bands that Nadir had given to the vicar lay on the bible. Erik picked up one of the rings and following the vicars instructions said his vows and placed the ring on Christine's finger. Christine did the same and soon they both had completed their vows.

"Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Then shall the Minister speak unto the people. Forasmuch as N and N have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce therefore that they be Man and Wife together, in the Name of the Father+ and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Erik, you may kiss the bride."

Erik snaked his hands up to the back of her head, pulling her to him as he kissed her with a passion before unbeknowst to him. Oh god how he loved this woman, his wife. He smiled broadly as he led her out into the sunlight.

The shadow had gone, Raoul deciding to move somewhere he would not be seen. He growled deep in the back of his throat as he watched the happy couple go by, their smiles making him retch. "You will pay monster. You will rue the day you EVER stole what rightfully belonged to Raoul DeChagny" 


	10. The Start Of Forever

The carridge started off and Erik pulled Christine, his wife, near to him. Placing a light kiss on her forehead he smiled at her, letting his gaze wander the entire length of her body. A blush ran slowly down her body as she caught him staring. A giggle escaped her lips and she hit him on the shoulder playfully as she caught his eyes and saw the blatant longing inside them;

"Patience my love" she said, her tone light and playful.

Erik chuckled and nodded, placing another small kiss, but this time on her lips. Christine rested her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly as bliss radiated throughout her body, leaving calmness in it wake. Erik placed his arm around her body and pulled her close to him again, her warmness wonderful against his cool skin. Never before had he ever felt so calm, never before had he felt so at peace but even now, with his wife by his side he couldn't shake the niggling itch at the back of his mind. The niggling itch that somehow, eventually the boy would come to claim what Erik now called his, taking with him not just his Christine but his one reason that he still walked on this wretched planet.

He was only aware he was almost thinking out loud when he caught Christine staring oddly at him, concern obvious in her eyes. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and unclenched his right fist which he had unconciously balled up in anger - his knuckles turning white through the power of which he forced.

"Are you okay my love?" she whispered, slightly apprehensive at recieving his answer. Erik looked down, his eyes filled with love, his manner now soft and gentle again, the easy passion with which seemed to radiate between them back returned and again Erik pushed the thoughts to the back his mind making a vow to deal with it later.

"Never better mon ange" came his reply. He smiled softly at his wife and nodded, trying to punctuate his point that all was well. He didn't see the need to worry her until it became necessary, he would let himself carry this burden for now.

Christine nodded back and took up her previous position resting on his shoulder, her thoughts talking back to the night ahead. A small smile crossed her face as she tried to imagine what her husband had planned. Erik looked down at her with interest as she sat there, her body calm but even he could sense the tiny labour in her breath, the way it caught slightly as she seemed lost in her thoughts. He ran his fingers through her hair slowly watching her unconciously keen to the side to meet his touch and another sigh left her lips.

God how he loved this woman, how he needed her, how she had saved him - not from society but from himself, when all else had failed she came and showed him the way home. By himself he had learnt how to float, to drift by on the water of life but she... she taught him how to swim, she taught him how to fly. With her by his side he felt invinsicble and there would never be enough time to tell her - his whole life, his future, his heart and soul was this woman who lay by his side.

Soon enough the carridge stopped and Erik gently ran his fingers across Christine's face, who had fallen asleep during the journey. Her eyes fickered open slightly and she smiled at him softly, coming to full conciousness quite quickly. He extended his arm and Christine took it as he slowly lifted her to her feet and he pulled her close to him as they got out of the carridge together. Erik hummed a tune as they walked arm and arm towards the Rue Scribe, a smile playing on his features on what was going to happen when they got inside - he hoped that Nadir had gotten it all ready having slipped out and left just after the ceremony had ended and had come to Erik's lair to prepare Erik's wedding present to his wife.

Erik unlocked the gate and grasped a lantern which always hung just inside, lighting it in one fluid motion. Christine followed him in and nuzzeled into him as they walked towards the boat, the smile still playing on Erik's features, trying to surpress the laughter that rose in hos throat again at the images that ran through his mind of the look on Christine's face as she saw what he had done for her. He sighed happily and kissed Christine softly on the head. After a while they had reached the boat and both of them stepped aboard and Erik grasped the pole and pushed them forward across the lake to him home, their home.

Erik hummed a tune again, it told of triumph, happiness and utter contentedness and Christine joined in, putting to it words from an old song that her father used to sing to her when she was little and he would play his violin to her. In no time they had reached the other side, Christine stepped out first only to quickly be picked up by her husband with a suprised giggle. Erik laughed too as he carried her forward, opening his front door with one hand and pushing it open before carrying over the threshold and setting her down on the floor.

The place was completely dark but even in this condition Erik's uncanny sight could see that everything had been done. Seeking out a match he passed it to his wife and said softly, a slight strain in his voice "You do the honours my love"

A sound of confusion left Christine's lips but she took the match as she felt it being thrust into her hand, striking it and lit the first candle and then another 5 more. Turning towards the bed her mouth opened slightly as she saw what was different. On the bed rose petals were scattered over it liberally, candles, unlit were all around and on the bed lay a blood night dress and robe - made of silk, not unlike Erik's black robe which lay beside it. A note lay on top of her robe, rimmed it black, her name written in his familiar red scrawl. Looking at Erik, confusion set in her features, but Erik just looked at her and motioned her forwards the note. Christine took his lead, and walked forward slowly, gingerly lifting the envalope up and turning it round, he had not used his seal. Smiling she opened it slowly and pulled out the contents, inside lay a piece of paper, musical notes drawn carefully on it, words written underneath, it was titled "For My Wife" and Christine stared at the page blindly, unsure of what to do. Eventually she was aware of a presence down, Erik ran his tongue across the nape of the neck and up to her ear where he whispered slowly and carefully; "That is for you, we shall go and practice..." The deliberate exaggeration on the word practice combined with the sensual nature of his whispered words sent a shiver down her spine and she surpressed a moan by biting her lip slightly.

Erik extended his hand and she took it, as he gently guided her around to where the organ sat, its dark shape almost omnious in the half light. Motioning her to sit down she did as she was asked, to be joined quickly by Erik who sat behind her, his legs staddling her from behind. With careful measure he lifted up the lid and quickly ran his fingers across the keys to warm them up before placing the score onto the stave and gently kissing Christine on the back of the neck again, breathing in the scent that was uniquely her, with a slight pause he began to play, not looking once at the score as he closed his eyes and let the music take over, the night was young, forever would be just one long night time with her by his side, he had finally found his home and he would not let her go for anything in the world. 


	11. Christine, Erik, Organs oh my

The music flowed, it swelled and ebbed as only Erik could do it. It told of love, devotion and eternity, and before long Christine felt the heat of the tears that ran slowly down her face. Erik's fingers stroked the keys beautifully, wringing out a composition that would make the angels weep. His eyes were closed as he swayed with the music, his breathing shallow but even. After a while his deep baritone joined in, his voice reaching into her very soul and turning her inside out with its purity and warmth.

Christine bit back at the lump rising in her throat which was threatening to turn into a sob - the true power of this moment lost on neither of them. After what seemed like an eternity Christine was aware that he had stopped, the air around them was electric, the only sound between them was each others heavy breathing. Both were afraid to move, both afraid even to speak, the tension in the room could be cut by a knife.

Music like an aphrodisiac to the soul, music could bring the coldest of men to their knees. But it was music that bonded and guided Erik and Christine, the other worldly connection that each of them shared was able to rise and fall like that of even the best symphony, their souls entwining like heavens own melody. Erik was as sure now as ever that Christine was heaven sent, she was his angel, she was his home.

He ran his lips across her neck, savouring her taste. He ran the curve of her neck before reaching up to her ear and whispering sensously into her ear "Any requests?" the final word coming out as more of a growl that made her senses reel sharply, bringing her closer to the sweet oblivion that she could not and would not request.

Breaking the moment before this night ended all too soon he started up a new melody that before long twisted themselves into Beethoven's 3rd - also known as "Erotica" - the significance was not lost on Christine who emitted a slight giggle as she felt Erik smirk into her neck as he continued to caress with his lips. Her body was on fire now, his cool touch brining out a fire that only he could extinguish.

She could feel his need for her pressing almost painfully into her lower back but she knew as well as he did that he could stretch this out as long as he wanted, making her completely and utterly half crazy for release before he would even think about his own need for her. His self control was almost inhuman at times. The music swelled and ebbed again as it started in a soft easy rhythm as the heat between them rose.

Christine shut her eyes, knowing that she was nearly past the point of know return, standing on the edge of forever, safe, secure and willing to be lead whereever he would, she would follow him to the ends of the earth if he would only hold her every night, the darkness had never been so safe as the darkness that he brought.

Erik moved one hand, brushing her left breast with it, feeling the nipple instantly harden under his light touch. Christine jolted towards him slightly, caught unwares by his touch but craving more. Biting back a groan he did it again, getting a less extreme reaction but one none the less. He continued to play, never once losing his timing or place as his hand slid lower to caress her breast through the thin fabric.

He watched her intensly, her skin was flushed pink, her eyes closed. He watched the way she bit her lip to stop herself from moaning as he cotinued his slow ministrations. He watched as her fists clenched and unclenched as he brushed his hand across her stomach, lightly but even that brought out a moan than was music to his ear. His groin ached, his head was fuzzy as he concentrated on the music, before his need got the better of him. Sweat broke out on his forehead and down his back as he watched her, swallowing as he tried unsuccessfully to restrain a growl that built up in his throat at the sight of the perfection infront of him.

"Erik...please..." Christine's voice was almost dreamy now, the silky sweetness in his voice almost the undoing of him as he shook his head and swallowed again before whispering into her ear, his voice thick with his need for her.

"Trust me... Christine" - her name came out as a groan, which caused them both to shiver. The heat was almost at fever pitch now as Erik continued the composition, the key change significant as it got slightly higher.

Erik reached down and brushed his hand over her centre before stroking her there, softly and gently, bringing out her moans now, that were audible even above the music. She whispered his name over and over, almost begging him completely now but still retaining that stubborn air which had attracted him to her in the first place - the air that no matter what you did she would not give in.

Smiling to himself he continued his torture, his own breathing coming sharp now as he willed himself to finish the song. With the last note of the piece he arose taking her with him.

Christines eyes snapped open as she was jolted from her daze, afraid that he was going to leave her like this, even though she knew he wouldn't. Her whole body was screaming for his touch now, her blood sang with his rhythm, with the music that flowed between them.

He placed a lingering kiss on her lips, savouring her taste again as he carried her over to their bed. He placed her down and looked into her eyes, his eyes betraying the self control he had managed so well to retain through the past minutes. The need for her as bright as day. He removed his shirt, and noted the way Christine moved her eyes down his body. Tonight he would show her the meaning of love, the meaning of peace, tonight there was only forever. 


	12. Contenment and Revenge

Christine slowly opened her eyes, the grittiness a reminder that she hadn't had much rest the night before. They had soent most of it joined together in the most holy of ways, until each lay spent in each other arms. A quick look upwards told her that her husband was still asleep, a peaceful, scerene look on his face which made her smile softly. She moved her feet slightly and deep in sleep Erik pulled her close to him in a possesive gesture. Christine giggled slightly and snuggled further and further into the warm embrace of the man who held her, his chest a safe haven that no matter how long she lived she would always feel at home.

The night was burned on Christines soul, the dull ache in her muscles a persistant but polite reminder of the passion they had shared. Each cry, each growl, each moan he gave forth was inscribe into her brain. Neither of them knew how many times they had screamed each others names into the darkness as the passion between them gave way to something more. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as sleep pulled her into its grasp again.

The next time she awoke she found herself on her own in their bed, the sheets were still warm however indicating her beloved hadn't been up long. She rolled over to his side for a minute taking in his scent that still hung there before lifting the covers back and pulling on a nearby shirt. She got up on slightly unstead legs and giggled as the memories of the night before came back to her still sleep addled brain. Padding out the door with the grace of a cat she found him at his organ, his back straight, his arms moving slowly along to a tune that he was composing. He stopped for a moment and wrote the notes down with a satisfied noise which meant that he had gotten it right. He was totally engrosed in his work so taking her chance she walked quietly up to him, her feet making little noise on the floor below.

He was only aware of her presence as she placed her hand on his right side of his face, expecting to feel the coolness of his mask and was slightly taken aback as she encountered skin. She ran her hands lovingly across his face and he pressed his face to hers, savouring the touch, the warmth on his cool skin making his pulse quicken slightly.

"Good morning mon ange" came his voice, still slightly tinged by sleep.

"Good morning my angel" came her reply, placing a light kiss on the marred side of his face, a small smile ran across Erik's features as she did so. A contented sigh escaped his lips and he pulled her close to him, placing a deep kiss on her lips as she placed her hands around his neck and grinned.

"What are you composing?" she asked quietly

"Did I wake you...? Erik asked, his voice full of concern. "I refrained from trying it out on the keys but sometimes..."

She placed a finger to her lips.

"Shhhh... no you didn't. You looked so content when I came in, it must be something interesting" she added with a giggle, which lit up her whole face.

"Its not finished yet..." - Erik looked down at the floor, a sudden blush coming across his face.

Christine wrinkled her brow slightly at this odd remark, he'd never been like that with her before, taking absolute delight in playing things he had written. She would get it out of him later.

"Fine..." she said with a mock pout "but you can make it up to me later!" she stuck her tongue out at him playful, earning a relieved grin from Erik.

"Vixen" he chuckled.

"And don't you ever forget it!" she grinned back, playing a kiss onto his nose.

Raoul stumbled home, a bottle in his left hand, half empty, the whiskey inside it already working its dark magic on his body, leaving him sluggish and lacklustre. His sword lay swinging slowly by his side although he wasn't even sure if he could use it now and to be perfectly honest he didn't care. It had only been a day since he had seen his Christine marry that monster and already the anger had risen to almost breaking point.

He had it all planned out, he would wait, lure them into a flase sense of security and then he would strike. One should never unesmtimate the power of the man who is willing to risk everything for what he deems his - one should never underestimate a man in love, however difficult it might be. He kicked at a stone that lay in his path and watched as it skidded up the street, stopping on the underside of a gas lamp which burnt brightly in the darkness.

He growled deep in the back of his throat as he neared his house, intending to make one or two last adjustments before he would allow himself to rest. Before long Christine would belong to him, he would be his willing wife like it had always seemed, and would be if it wasn't for the monster that had taken him away from him.

The monster that had lured her into his bed, the monster that had her mind, body and soul. A sob formed in his throat and tears trickled slowly down his cheeks as he thought about her, how she had fooled him, how he had driven her into the Phantom's arms.

"Oh christine..." he said quietly, his voice cracking and slurring slightly under the alcohol's kiss.

Finally he had reached his door, and walked in. Elizabeth, his personal assistant came to greet him as he entered the main room and looked at him in shock. His clothes were in disaray, his face pale and his eyes dark through lack of sleep. His hair was messed and the stench of whiskey could be smelt strongly on him.

"Are you okay Sir?" she inquired timidly, vocally tiptoeing around the slightly unstable man infront of her. "Your bed was not slept in..."

"I am well aware of that Elizabeth" came his short reply "Maybe that could be because I haven't been to bed yet" he started forward, his tired legs giving way slightly under him as he went to go upstairs;

"No disturbances until I come down, and I mean not one!" he growled menacingly.

Elizabeth nodded dumbly and went to busy herself with chores.

Raoul reached the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath from the exertion, coming down slightly from the euphoria of the whiskey, a headache starting in his temples, making him groan. Forgoing the arrangements he opened the door to his room and stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him, there would be plenty time for revenge later. 


	13. Revenge is a dish best served cold

Chapter 13

Raoul opened his eyes and cried out as the light assaulted his senses, making his head swim. He got up slowly on unsteady legs and stumbled over to his dresser, picking up the nearest bottle of whiskey he found there and took a long sip. The liquid burned down his throat and he growled as it warmed him and steadied his nerves somewhat. He ran his hands through his hair, which hung, messily around his shoulders, and over his chin where 2 day old stubble graced his usually handsome features making him seem scruffy and unkempt.

His head reeled, full of thoughts and scenarios, about all the things in his power he could do to them. Pain throbbed in his temples but he paid it no heed as a small smile ran over his face as his plan took shape. It would be all too easy to storm the lair and grab Christine and finish him off once and for all, that would take away the thrill of the chase, it would take away his triumph and it would take away the fact that he was the better man once and for all. It took patience, cunning and wit and he had these, he had the ways and the means, it was only a matter of time.

He walked over to a bowl that was filled with cold water. He rinsed his face and winced as the cold water cleared his senses somewhat, and for the first time that morning he was able to think clearly. He took up a razor and proceeded to continue to tidy himself up – after all, Christine would never want him again if he looked like this.

He placed a white shirt on, which Elizabeth had placed out whilst he was sleeping. The white linen gliding over his well toned body easily, bringing another small smile. Next came his trousers, bottle green, pressed impeccably as always. Finally the jacket, the tails reaching half way down his back, billowing slightly as the wind took them. Looking into the mirror he surveyed himself, a chuckle leaving his throat as he did so;

"Its only a matter of time Raoul, then she will be at your beck and call again and away from the monster she calls a man!" came his deep voice as he grinned, grabbed his top hat and cane and walked out to start his preparations. Saying nothing to the servants he walked out into the early morning sun, whistling a happy tune.

Finally he came to the Blacksmith's and entered the door slowly, the poor light making his head hurt as he strained to see. Jones – the blacksmith stood in the corner, a blade he was working on bright red, a stark comparison to the light around them, just looking at it made Raoul's head swim suddenly. The man in question had been a family friend and weapon provider to the De Chagny family for decades, his white hair short, his features firm but wise, his eyes giving nothing of his emotion away.

"Good Morrow!" came his cheerful reply as he noticed Raoul walk in – his eyes came alive with emotion.

"Good Morrow" came Raoul's low reply; "I have a small request. I have… business to take care of shortly and I wish to have something…" he searched for the right word, his brow arching as he did so; "special with which to do it with".

Getting out a piece of paper and his ink pen he sat down, lit a candle and set to work on putting down on paper that which Raoul had in mind.

They had spent the day quietly, composing, reading and generally existing in the same space as one another. Conversation was easy going, they talked of everything and anything until eventually the topic had drifted onto children. Looking deep into his eyes she had approached the subject, watching the emotions drift across his face, his eyes – shock, disbelief, wonder, and finally love… he wanted this as much as hers, a smile drifted over his face and she watched as he slowly got lost in his own thoughts.

She knew he was highly afraid of their child baring the same afflictions as his own but she knew more than anything what a great father he would make. He was loving, passionate and caring, strong but frail at the same time. The man she loved was so complicated yet so simple. There was such beauty in his heart and soul – he never failed to bring her to tears but so many people had refused to look behind the mask. His eyes alone told his story, his amber eyes both burning and adoring as he stared into her eyes, with a smirk on his face.

Without warning he darted forward and she found herself on her back looking up at him, with a surprised look on her face. The look in his eyes took her breath away – and she shivered and swallowed at the same time. She fought the lump that rose in her throat – this man was her future, her life – and she would want nothing more than to bare his children.

He ran his fingers slowly across her sides, bringing out whimpers and moans from her very soul. He teased her until she could stand no longer and plunged into her, filling her completely, taking both their breaths away as a rhythm and before long they each cried their release and lay spent in each others arms.

Erik woke up with a start, sweat breaking out on his brow and down his back – his breathing coming in short sharp gasps. Nightmares; his only physical weakness, which caused him much anguish and embarrassment. He lay there for a minute before he realised that even without looking Christine was not beside him. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck and a shiver ran down his spine, immediately clearing his sleep-addled brain. The lair was deathly silent.

"Christine!" he called, getting nothing back but his own voice, which echoed off the walls all around him. He felt the sheets; she had not been there for quite a while.

"Christine?" he called out again, his voice taking on a desperate tone now. Still there came no reply.

Pulling back the covers he jumped out, grabbing a shirt and trousers and quickly pulling them on as he ran out of their room. He called out her name, hoping to get some sort of reply. '_Where the hell is she!'_ He thought _'She wouldn't just up and go, she wouldn't leave me again, no like this… not now…'_

He searched the kitchen; bread and cheese lay on the table, hardly touched, the chair thrown back violently. It lay on the floor cold and untouched.

He ran out towards his organ and the lake, his eyes quickly scanned around his as he searched the bank. He let out a strangled cry as he saw his beloved there, deathly pale, a dark bruise forming on her forehead, dried blood from underneath her head….


	14. Never underestimate a man in love

He almost tripped over as he stumbled blindly towards her, disbelieving that it was actually she there. His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as he ran his fingers deftly over her body, looking for broken bones and the like. He gave a small sigh when he found there were none. He caressed her cheek and watched, looking for any signs of movement but finding none, her breathing was slow and even, it was almost as though she was asleep.

Scooping her up, he held her to him, feeling the tears start up behind his eyes as he looked down at her, so peaceful, so cool but thankfully alive. "Christine…" he said softly, "Who did this? I'll never forgive myself… so help me God I'll tear them limb from limb!" he growled now, there was only other person apart from Nadir who knew where he lived, who would have the gall to set foot in his home… Raoul.

He would deal with that later, the anger in him reaching fever pitch before he realised that he had to help his beloved who lay in his arms. With Christine in his arms he reached for his cloak, wrapping it with difficulty around her unconscious form. He would take her up to the Opera House, he couldn't very well get a doctor down here and Madame Giry would make sure all was alright whilst he set about finding the one who had done this. Walking slowly over to his boat her placed his love carefully inside and pushed off from the side with the pole.

Within 15 minutes they had reached the other side. Christine still lay unconscious but his worries had been eased at her mumblings throughout the journey. He docked the boat and picked up his precious cargo, her weight unusually heavy in his arms, her skin usually rosy was a dull alabaster against his own pale skin – but still her slow, even breathing continued.

His path to the surface was long and slow, during the time he whispered words of love, crooned to her to keep her vaguely aware, to keep him vaguely sane. He would never forgive himself if he lost her – God might as well take him too for without her he was truly nothing. A cry rose in his throat and he pushed it back – he couldn't think of it; he wouldn't. Erik looked down at his beloved – even in her unconscious state she took his breath, her natural beauty a true gift from the God's.

Finally he had reached his destination, finding and flipping the switch in one fluid motion, mirror sliding back almost immediately. The commotion of Erik's shouts and cries brought Madame Giry in quickly, the sight of them both making her jump backing amazement.

"Fetch a doctor" Erik almost screamed as he placed Christine quickly but softy onto the bed in front of him. Madame Giry turned to speak now but Erik silenced her, shooting her a look that chilled her to the very bone and placing a finger to his lips.

"Please Madame Giry, I assure I am not the cause of this. Please fetch a doctor, or I fear for her, I truly do."

The frankness of his tone, the desperation in his eyes made Madame Giry move, her heart going out to him immediately, she knew that love ran deep but no deeper than what moved through the man in front of her. Nodding slowly she turned quickly, shutting the door with a soft click.

With an almost animalistic groan Erik fell to his knees at Christine's side. Taking one of her pale hands in his he laid his head on the bed, letting the tears that had been threatening fall, hot on his cheeks, stinging his eyes and staining his cheeks.

"Please don't leave me Christine. I…I cannot go on without you. You are my life, my soul Christine, my music…"

He placed a kiss on her palm, letting his tears fall freely. The pain in him was almost unbearable but still he continued, his voice strained and small, so strange coming out from such a big man.

"Please Christine… I love you"

He was startled as he heard the soft click which announced someone else's presence. His head snapped up almost immediately and he let out a low, dangerous growl – his face softening when he saw the face of Madame Giry, her air of authority still retaining, quiet respect between the both of them. In a slow even voice she said;

"The doctor is on his way Monsieur" she looked down at the broken man in front of her and smiled sadly to see him in so much anguish.

"Please Monsieur… what happened?" came Madame Giry's voice, slightly more apprehensive now.

"I…don't know. I was asleep… I woke up and she wasn't there. I looked everywhere Madame Giry… everywhere and I found her like this next to the lake…please Madame Giry, I'm begging you… she is my everything…"

"It is the will of God Monsieur…" came her quiet reply.

Before long there came a soft rap at the door. Erik's head snapped up again, his eyes riveted on the door as an elderly gentleman came quietly through the door, his steps small but firm, his thin glasses perched on the end of his nose, a leather bag tucked underneath one arm, a small smile crossed his face.

He walked cautiously towards the couple, Erik's amber eyes continuously fixed on the man in front of him. He motioned for Erik to move and with a soft nod he obeyed, getting up and got up to walk out the door. As he did so he almost shouted;

"When she awakes, tell her I've gone to sort out what I should have done a long time ago. He WILL pay for this!" and growling he walked out. It suddenly hit Madame Giry, he meant Raoul, and he meant to hurt him. Rushing outside he grabbed his shoulder, so scared at his reaction as he swung round on her.

"What?" the word so simple was filled with so much venom.

"You can't be so sure Monsieur… maybe it wasn't he?"

"Who else could it have been!" he growled, his amber eyes flashing with hatred now as he strode forth with purpose. Erik walked out into the Paris daylight, the sun immediately making his head ache slightly. Tension ran throughout his body and his fingers flexed involuntarily in his anger. Where to find the man who had done this? He could be anywhere. With a deep sigh he walked purposely towards Raoul's house – best place than any to start.

The atmosphere stayed electric for a couple of minutes, neither sure of what to do or say, the doctor eventually broke the silence;

"How long has she been like this Madame?" his voice, deep and tender.

The doctor and Madame talked quietly for a few minutes. Suddenly they were aware of movement and each looked towards Christine who lay staring up at the ceiling, slightly disorientated.

"Erik?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

"He's not here Christine, he went to find who did this, and I couldn't stop him…"

"What…?" came her shocked reply as it sunk in what she was saying. Rising to sitting point she was immediately took over by a wave of nausea that threatened to consume her.

"Stay still" the doctor ordered softly, placing a soft hand on her shoulder, pushing her down again.

"But it wasn't Raoul…" was all he could say before she fainted again.


	15. News

Anger coursed through Erik's veins as he made his way through the Paris crowds. Everywhere smoke clouded his vision as the early morning trading ggot underway. His eyes looked straight ahead at only a point he could see - he would make Raoul pay for hurting his wife. Erik would draw everything out, every ounce of pain bringing forth screams that truely would be even better than the sweetest music. He growled low in his throat and a smirk played across the corner of his mouth as he thought about everything. 'Time to make the Fop pay' he thought triumphantly.

Christine stared at the doctor with rapt amazement, what the doctor was slowly explaining to her was not sinking in. Her head was pounding, half with pain, half with anticipation. A white bandage, clean and crisp had been wrapped carefully around her forehead, her left eye already forming into a dark purple bruise where her head had impacted with the stone floor.

"But...but I can't..." Christine's voice came quietly, unure, but filled with so much emotion. Madame Giry looked on silently, a smile gracing her features at the news. 'And so it begins...' she thought to herself.

"You are madame..." said the doctor with a small smile, "All the signs point to it..."

Christine's eyes locked with Madame Giry and only then did the tears fall silently down her cheeks, slowly and gently, a smile stretched across her face at the news.

"Erik..." his name came out more of a statement than an actual question and she made to get up once more, put again the doctors hand guided her body back into a horizontal position as again a wave of nausea struck her. Placing her hand protectively across her stomach she took a deep breath to calm her nerves at the thought of telling her husband this news.

"I will have someone fetch him Madame" Madame Giry's voice came across the room to her, instantly soothing her nerves. With that Madame Giry left the room, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

One more check of Christine's pupils and the doctor was satisfied, gathering up his things

"Remember Madame... rest, for both of you..." the doctor said in a firm even voice before leaving the room,leaving Christine to her thoughts.

'How will I tell him...?' she thought, a lump rising quickly in her throat.

Finally in the distance Erik could see the De Chagny resident and he couldn't help but let escape a little chuckle of childlike glee. He hummed a short, happy tune and flexed his fingers thoughtfully as he strode forward with purpose. Suddenly he was aware of horses hooves in the distance behind him, the rider obviously pushing hard against the horse.

His head swung round to see a man on a dark brown stallion coming towards him rapidly, the riders head down, his dark cloak billowing behind him. Before long he had reached Erik and sat looking him deep in the eyes, a glint of fear overshadowing them as he surveyed the man infront of him steadily.

"She has awoken Monsieur and she requests your presence..." he said steadily, a touch a fear tainting the words. "She says it wasn't he and she has news to depart to you."

Erik looked at him, seeing the fear as he spoke and saw only truth in his eyes and manner. Growling low in his throat again he nodded slowly and turned around, cursing his luck and thanking the heavens that his wife was okay and able to ask for him.

He had only put one foot infront of the other before the young man's voice started again;

"Forgive me Sir but... but you are to have this horse and I shall walk"

The rider dismounted and motioned for Erik to mount the horse which Erik did immediately.

"I thank you Monsiuer" came Erik's short but polite reply. The messenger nodded and Erik rode off at a sharp gallop, the slight change in the wind the only indicator that he had been there.

As he rode, his mind drifted back to what the messenger had said 'She has some news to depart to you' What could she possibly want to tell to him, what had the doctor said? Panic rose in his throat as he thought but he quickly pushed all such thoughts to the back of his mind and fought down the cry that has risen up. She was his life, he couldn't lose her, not again.

Before long he could see the Opera Populaire looming infront of him. Jumping off the horse he ran indoors swiftly, his heart pounding, his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. Bursting into the door he found Madame Giry comforting Christine, one look at her told him that she had been crying. Walking cautiously towards them he fell to his knees infront of them both, his heart breaking to see her in such distress.

"My love..." he started, his voice thick with emotion.

Christine glanced at Madame Giry who gave a curt nod and walked silently out, making sure the door was shut.

"My love" Erik repeated again, before taking one of her hands in his, running it slowly over the palm before bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently. His eyes were deep amber now, so full of mixed emotion Christine could hardly stand it, she couldn't keep it from him, not this, he had a right to know.

Taking a deep breath, Christine swallowed and cleared her throat, once... twice before starting in a slow, steady voice as if she was talking to a child who wouldn't quite understand;

"We, Erik are..." she placed her hands over her stomach "...we..." she couldn't finish, her voice faltering and happy tears fell down her cheeks.

She turned to look at Erik, but he had already gone, the door clicking softly behind him. 


	16. Forgiveness and Adjustments

"Erik" - her voice called out barely above a whisper. Getting up immediately, ignoring the pain in her head and the sickness in her stomach, she made her way unsteadily out of the room to find her beloved. She knew he would react strongly but she didn't think he'd actually leave - still he had to have his reasons and she needed desperately to find out what those reasons were.

She found him standing in the doorway looking out to the outside, his form was stock straight, no emotion showed but she could feel it eminating from in waves. It was mixed, like she knew it would be but still she couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that clung to her heart.

Carefully she walked up to him, and softly she placed a hand to his shoulder. She was startled slightly as she realised that he was shaking.

"Erik...?" it was more of a way to break the silence than an actual question.

"You should be in bed..." came his reply, thick with emotion.

Still he stood with his back to her, his eyes seeing nothing and everything, a thousand thoughts ran through his head - all the fears and wishes conflicting with one another as it slowly dawned on him what she was telling him.

"Why did you leave my love?" she questioned him now, they couldn't leave it like this.

"I...I don't know Christine. It was more impulse than anything. You were trying to get the words out and I knew what you were trying to say and I...I just lost control for a minute." he faltered, tears falling freely down his cheeks now and he turned around to face her.

The look in his eyes told a thousand words and stepping forward slightly, she caressed his cheek slowly and placed a kiss on his lips. She felt him smile underneath her lips, it was small but it was there.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves he gently swept her up into his arms and carried her back into her bedroom before laying her down onto the bed. Christine closed her eyes and she felt the bed sag slightly as it took the weight of them both, she felt him lay down beside her and she gracefully entwined her body with his as he pulled her close to him.

"I love you Christine" his voice came queitly

"I know Erik... god I know"

Erik placed a small kiss on her bandaged forehead cursing himself as she drew in a small breath on contact.

"I was so worried I'd lost you Christine, you are my life. When I saw you lying there it was if I'd lost part of myself, I am nothing without you. I went out with the soul intention of killing the man whom I thought had again shattered my life into a thousand pieces and stood laughing as I wept. When the rider caught up with me and told me you'd awoken, my heart soared. When I came back I knew the second you covered your stomach that you were with child and I...I...I'm so scared Christine... what... what if..."

She felt him rest his head on the top of hers, taking care to manouver around the bandage. She felt him screw his eyes shut and his body shuddered with unshed tears.

"You had it all Christine, a beautiful fiance, a beautiful life above ground, with money and status and you're here with me now... in the darkness... it is no life for a child..."

"You forget Erik, that I came willingly. Never once doubt my love because you know it isn't true. I love you Erik, to me you are beautiful. You are more myself than I am, you echo my heartbeat, you are the other half of my soul"

Christine closed her eyes again and felt his hands slide slowly down her body to rest on her stomach, he held her protectively, she had never felt so loved as she did now.

"You know I would lay my life down for you and our child...he will not ruin what we have Christine, ever!" he growled softly.

"We shall get a house above ground my love, our child shall know the sun, unlike its father it will not dwell in the shadows."

Christine nodded, she was already succumbing to the tired that coursed through her veins. "We shall my love..." she said quietly before Erik noticed her slow, even breathing - she had fallen asleep. With a small smile he pulled her even closer, he was going to be a father... 


	17. It Begins

Raoul stood on the balcony watching the scenary around him, a bottle of whiskey clutched tightly in his left hand. Before he never would have dreamed of turning to alcohol to try and solve his problems but as time had gone past it had become harder to try and resist the velvet kiss of the liquor as it carrassed his body as gently as a lover would, making him seem invinsible.

It would soon be time, everything had been set in motion and the touchpaper would be set aflame, burning Erik and Christine's live to ashes. A statisfied smile worked its way slowly across Raoul's face, quickly turning into a smirk as realisation dawned through his drunken haze.

The night was beautiful, the moonlight casting its rays delicatly over anything and everything, turning the world around him milky white. There was a slight chill in the air, keeping him fairly clear headed but still the alcohol had worked its charms on his thoughts and his body. Somewhere an owl hooted, breaking the calmness of the night but inside the De Chagny house there was bustle. Around the table in the room behind Raoul sat four gentlemen, each deathly silent, waiting for command.

As if he had had suddenly remembered he had more important things to do, Raoul turned around and stumbled slightly through the bay windows into the room. The four men watched Raoul as he made his way slowly and slightly unsteadily towards the table, pulling back the only spare chair and sitting down. He plonked the bottle down noisely and banged his fist on the table as if making an attempt to silence the gentlemen around him.

"Right gentlemen" he said gruffly, his words slightly slurred "Let's get down to business"

Erik's eyes drooped, his head too but he caught himself before he fell asleep. He had spent hours watching his beloved, his arms cradling her, resting protectively on her stomach in which grew their baby... his baby. The prickle of his skin at the news had given way to all consuming love.

He silently cursed his reaction to her news. When she had told him, he hadn't been able to breathe, it was if his throat was closing, the whole room seemed to close in around him. He had forced himself against all his better judgement to walk out the room, startling himself in the process. He cursed himself for even doubting her love for even one second, Old habits die hard... Her confession of pure love had touched him more than she'll ever know, more than he'll ever be able to tell her in this lifetime or any other.

Quickly he sent a prayer of thanks up to the Gods, for this blessing, finally they seemed to be looking favourably on him. He smiled to himself and a small tear made its way down his cheek as he contined to gaze lovingly down at his wife, his hands carrassing her stomach possessively, lovingly.

Even though the candles had long since burnt out, still he kept watch, his night vision allowing him to watch with almost perfect clarity each curve and swell of her body, each expression on her face, every silent sigh which made his heart skip a beat.

So he finally had a reason, he had two reasons to be - his wife and his child. He also had another reason to defend them with his very life against those that would destroy all that they had together.

A growl came to his throat but Christine moved slightly under his touch and his mind quickly went back to her. The bandage around her head stook stark in the dark, not as pure white as it had been. 'She will be able to take it off tomorrow' he thought to himself. He had thanked the Gods that she had not been harmed seriously, the wound having been gained from fainting after a bout of morning sickness.

There was still something he couldn't quite shake off, the sense of foreboding that he, even now, could feel in the air, something was going to happen, and soon. He took a deep breath and willed himself to forget, but the niggling in his head kept him on guard, kept him focused, he would make plans to move in the morning.

This eased his thoughts slightly. He kissed her softly on her head and closed his eyes and in her sleep Christine sighed to his touch.

The meeting had been a great success, everyone had made their way back to their own establishments and again the De Chagny residence was calm. Raoul sat at his desk, his quill in his hand, writing words onto several bits of paper. A candle burned slowly beside him and he hummed a little happy tune. Signing it, he placed it carefully into an envelope and reaching over to where his wax stood, he lifted it up and placing a small amount onto the envelope he pressed it down with his seal and placed it to the side, on this one he wrote, in his copperplate writing - "Erik" - and placed it to the side. The other, he signed and repeated the process, only this time he wrote "Christine" - and placed it on top.

Another grin made its way across his face - it was time... 


	18. New Lives and Deceptions

Chapter 18 

Erik awoke to find himself alone in bed the sheets still warm next to him - she hadn't been up long. He jumped out of bed, grabbed his trousers and his shirt and made his way slowly to where he knew Christine would surely be. Her morning sickness has gotten worse over the past few days and he had started to get used to waking up alone. Never in his years on this earth did he ever envision himself being in this situation – sure he had dreamt more times than he could remember but it was still foreign, still scary but so uniquely theirs.

He laughed and shook his head as he found his wife on her knees next to the lake. Her white nightgown pooled around her knees, making her seem like an angel before the feet of God.

"Are you laughing at me Erik?" Christine said, her voice light and playful but slightly weary.

"No mon ange" he said, stifling a laugh.

"If you think its so funny my love, YOU try going through this. Trust me, you wouldn't last 1 day!" she laughed out loud now, her laugh cutting through the gloom like sun on a winter's day.

"Its quite alright mon ange" he said, kneeling down beside her; "After all, you're doing such a great job of it" he chuckled and she hit him playfully on the shoulder before another wave of nausea hit her and she bent over the lake side again.

He held her hair back whilst she vomited and once she was sure she was finished he pulled her close, his body acting as protection to hers. She rested her head on his chest and he kissed the top of her head. They say there for what seemed like forever in a perfect state of quiet bliss, just enjoying being in the same space. Never before had he been so calm just to do this – he had always built up walls to prevent this but Christine had come on and melted the ice of the Opera Ghost.

The bandage had long since come off and the bruising was coming down nicely but he still worried for her, he worried for them, it was only a matter of time before what was coming came and he wasn't sure whether they would all come back unscathed.

He had made arrangements to move to a little house just outside of Paris. It was a beautiful house – with rooms that branched off into other rooms and from the top floor you could see forever.

It would give him the peace he needed and the solitude from the crowds whilst making sure that Christine could get to the Opera House when she was needed. Plus, it was the perfect distance away so they could get lost whilst still being found. Nadir had made all the final arrangements above ground and all he had to do now was to sign the paper work and they would finally have a place to live above ground.

Raoul opened the door to the balcony and the light of the sun made his eyes ache, the grit behind them a stark reminder of the fact he hadn't yet slept. All the arrangements were in order, now they only had to wait for the right time. All the men knew their roles, their positions and each had been handsomely paid – they were finally going to get what they deserved, she was going to be his and the 'monster' would be no more.

He had spent the best part of the past 4 days in solitude in his room, only going out when need permitted he did so. He was still wearing the same clothes and he hadn't shaved but still the sardonic smile lingered across his lips. It flickered across his face like a child awaiting Christmas Day – for the present that he had pestered his mother for all year round. Except this time there would be no waiting, he would be in charge of his own destiny, he would have his say and nothing, and especially _no one was going to stop him, least of all him_

He glanced at his pocket watch – 10.30am, it would soon be time to pay a final visit to the Blacksmith. He had spent the several days before his self-induced exile going through each and every detail so that it would be right – it needed to be special. _The 'greatest moment' of the monster's life needs an audience_

Taking slow, deliberate steps he closed the door and walked towards where his cleaning utensil's lay and set to work making himself presentable.

Within 30 minutes he was grabbing his hat and cane and walking out into the Parisian sunshine, whistling a happy tune as he did so. He was impeccably clean shaven, his hair tied up in a neat pony tail against his thin but graceful neck, a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat graced his handsome lips. _Oh yes, it was time. _

It took him the best part of 10 minutes but finally he had reached his destination, opening the door with authority and walking in swiftly. The blacksmith was working furiously, his back towards Raoul, a thin film of sweat worked its way down his neck and back.

Raoul cleared his throat impatiently and he turned round on his heels, his face breaking out into a broad grin as he saw Raoul.

"Monsieur De Chagny!" he said brightly "I'm just in the process of finishing up here – I beg your indulgence for a few minutes longer"

Raoul nodded and the blacksmith turned back towards his work, whilst Raoul looked on eagerly.

Within 10 minutes it was obviously finished and the blacksmith let it cool on the side.

"I've been working the best part of 2 weeks on that!" he said proudly "Everything you said down to the letter! Its light, sharp and perfect for doing that which you require." He looked towards the floor slightly but continued, afraid to meet Raoul's eyes; "If I might be so bold what do you require it for? There is no war, not even a threat and yet you wished it so…"

"No you might not be so bold…my business is my own" growled Raoul in slight annoyance. The blacksmith nodded towards the pistol which lay on the worktop. The grey a stark contrast to the wood which it lay on – the De Chagny crest shone proudly on the handle, the detail breath taking, the shadow hitting it making it seem strong and proud.

Raoul walked cautiously over and picked up that which lay in front of him. He tested its weight and it balance before finally taking aim at a nearby wall and pulling the trigger. The bullet chamber clicked in protest and a grin passed across Raoul's face again – it was perfect.

He nodded towards the blacksmith and said quietly:

"I thank you for your trouble, you have done well, you shall be handsomely paid." Before leaving a purse on the table and walking with purpose out the shop.

The ink had not been dry on the paper for more than a few hours before Erik and Christine stood outside the entrance to the Rue Scribe with various possessions pooled in boxes around their feet. Erik looked down towards the floor, slightly anxious, he knew this was the right time to move, but still he wasn't used to being above ground in the day. Christine sensed his anxiety and squeezed his hands comfortably.

"It'll be alright my love" she whispered quietly.

Finally the brown coach turned the corner and the driver pulled up with a smile. Getting off quickly he helped them gather everything together and before long they were on their way out of the Rue Scribe towards the Bois – Erik looking sadly behind him at the home he had known for so long, his beloved organ set to gather dust deep within the bowels of the Opera House.

The night was dark as 5 shadows walked through the streets of Paris. Like ghosts passing silently through the night they moved, all safe in the purpose of what was going to come to pass tonight. All had spilt blood before and practically revelled in it – the sweetness as life became extinct an powerful aphrodisiac to their souls.

The head of the group was Raoul, the torch he was carrying the only light, casting their shadows powerfully onto the walls behind them as they walked. Finally they had reached the Rue Scribe. Sending men ahead he waited until the dull click of the gate gave way and finally he moved forward again with a purpose that was almost threatening to consume him fully. He breath came in short sharp gasps as he made his way through the gate into the lair and walked slowly down into the bowels of hell.

Sending men forward again he let them lead the way, preferring to hold back, the coupe degrais was going to be his – they were going to drive him out before finally he would get what we wanted, revenge, in cold blood.

Before long they had reached Lake Averne, the boat usually at this side of the lake, a lantern hung slightly alight on the front, the pole neatly tucked in underneath the boat. Cocking his head slightly Raoul joined his men on the boat and the leader, Javert pushed them off into the dark.

The journey was a long one, the weight on the small craft slowing them down before finally they got to the other side which hung in pitch darkness. A growl rose up in Raoul's throat and echoed around the lair.

"Go, find them now!" he shouted, even though he knew they wouldn't be found here, not now. He fell to his knees, the gun skidding out from under him and across the floor and screamed his frustration to the darkness around him. _He would find them, they could not hide from Raoul De Chagny!_


	19. Escape

The coach lurched suddenly and Erik felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Grabbing Christine firmly by the shoulder he pulled her close to him, he wrapped his cloak around them both and pulled his fedora over his eyes – effectively blending them both into blackness. He bent his head down and whispered softly;

"Don't move… trouble"

Christine's head lay against Erik's chest and she could hear it beat steadily, showing almost no emotion at what could possibly be a difficult situation. Erik's breath came in short sharp gasps as he heard horses hooves approach them with speed. Through the slight gap in his cloak he was able observe what was happening. Several horses pulled up beside them, neither passing them nor letting them go past them.

"Raoul…" Erik whispered through gritted teeth, the venom spilling out.

Erik felt Christine suck in a breath and start shaking slightly.

"Shhhh… he won't place a hand on you, he has to go through me first"

Still the horses stayed beside them, imposing, menacing, cool and calculating. The powerful white horse leading the pack, luminous in the dark, Raoul on the back, sitting tall at the reigns his long hair billowing behind him like a cape, his gun fixed against his side, shining in the moonlight.

The coach lurched again and both Erik and Christine gave a startled breath – what were they trying to do? The rider gave a cry and struggled to keep the horses under control as the horses to the side of them startled them.

He strained his ears but he could not pick any voices up, only the deafening thud of the horse's hooves to the side and the wooden wheels of the coach trundling along. Erik shut his eyes for a moment, trying to think. What were they trying to do? Were they trying to get in or simply to scare? How could they possibly know it was them inside? Thousands of thoughts and scenario's ran through Erik's brain, causing a growl to rise up with him that he could barely control.

He cursed himself and put his head down, feeling Christine hair beneath him. He took in her scent – and it calmed his nerves slightly, he swallowed and took a deep breath and waited for the storm to pass. Christine was still shivering in his embrace, and again he whispered words of comfort.

Suddenly the coach stopped and they were plunged into silence – closing in around them like an invisible cloak. Neither dared to breathe as Erik tried to estimate the next move. Quickly he snaked his hand round to his inside pocket, feeling the cat-gut underneath his fingers – safe, strong and secure. He would do anything to protect his wife and child, even if it meant breaking a promise he had made to Christine so long ago.

"Christine…." Erik said quietly, he felt his wife lift her head up slightly – she was listening. "No matter what happens, do not look up okay? They do not know me by sight as well as they do you."

They waited in the darkness, their blood pounding in their ears. Erik – like a coiled rattle-snake ready to strike, fingered his Punjab lasso, a smile starting to alight his features as he heard distinct footsteps coming closer by the second. His nostrils flared slightly and a metallic taste filled his mouth as the adrenaline started to pump through his veins – making him dangerous – _it's been too long…_

Silently he counted down, his cat like hearing and eyesight meant he knew exactly where he was even though he could barely see through the gap in his cloak. _5…4…3…2…1_

Suddenly the door was wrenched open and just as quickly a hand shot out, the snake catching his prey, rendering him dead before he had even chance to move, even had chance to breathe – his neck snapping with an audible crack as he hit the gravel track beneath, his jaw hitting the coach step heavily, the only sound a dull thud as he hit the ground – no scream, no cry, no nothing; _exactly how I like it _Erik thought with relish.

Erik took a moment to compose himself, a maniacal grin threatened to tear his face apart, his heart pounding in his chest from the emotion, _it truly had been too long_. Suddenly he was aware of more footsteps running their way, the man's breath casting steam into the dark night, his breathing as heavy as his footsteps. It was only a matter of time before he had reached the opening and saw his fallen comrade. Just as fast he was dealt the same blow, leaving Raoul completely unguarded and he knew this.

He snaked his hand out again and shut the coach door with authority, banging on the top of the coach and shouting as loud as his lungs would let him; "Now!"

He was rewarded as the coach started forward, the startled coach driver obvious as keen to get out of the way as possible. Erik let Christine go and sat back with an exhausted sigh. It suddenly hit Christine; he had killed again. She sat back and snuggled against the crux of his shoulder – it always amazed her how he could sit so nonchalantly as if he'd done something trivial like sneeze. She knew it was wrong but she also knew that they would have been in a worse situation had the men not had been stopped.

Her conscious waged war inside her head. Erik sensed this and looked down at his wife, her fists clenching and unclenching as she worked everything over in her mind.

"I'm sorry, _mon ange_, it was the only way…"

Christine gave a sigh and said resignedly "I know my love…"

And with that not another word was said, it was a necessary evil.

Raoul dismounted his horse and ran over to where his men lay in the moonlight, no marks on them save for the dark bruise forming around their necks – they looked so peaceful. Suddenly he hit him. _Erik… it was Erik in there… and surely Christine too, else why else would he have been so brutal?_

Raoul swore into the nighttime, his only reply the silence that spoke volumes.


	20. Welcome Home

Erik sat back and sighed, his arms draped protectively around Christine's shoulders; who dozed at his side peacefully. The adrenaline rush still hummed in his veins and his head was light from the sensations that flooded it – the joy of the kill had never left him. _One never truly loses that knack even though they try so hard to suppress it – sometimes it is just too strong to ignore._

His fingers kept an unknown beat on the side of the coach, the adrenaline making him slightly restless as it always did, a welcome distraction from the thoughts that niggled at the back of his mind – was Raoul still following them? Did he know where they were heading? Had he already been into the bowels of the Opera House looking for them both? He tapped louder on the wood, the sound startling Christine who looked up at him quizzically;

"Are you well?" Christine asked quietly, her voice above a whisper

"I'm fine _mon chere_, just thinking"

Christine noticed that his hand had slipped into his pocket and he fingered the cat gut again, his face a strange mask of calm and restlessness. She moved out of his grasp and placed a small kiss on his cheek, and he relaxed visibly. She ran her fingers through his short hair and coaxed his head down to her shoulder, reaching into the pocket where his hand was and pulling it out swiftly. She placed a kiss on the palm and put placed on her stomach.

"Your reason is there my love, no doubts, no fears, only this… us"

He gave a tired growl and nodded his head slightly. A deep sigh left his lips and he let his eyelids droop, putting his hand behind Christine's body and pulled himself closer to her, taking in her scent and willing himself to calm down. He felt an anger rise in him again over thoughts of Raoul but trying to predict his plans was more difficult than he would admit to himself – he realised that he was helpless for the moment, better to forget yet stay on guard; their lives depended on it.

It seemed as if an eternity had passed before he was aware that Christine was gently shaking him, he had fallen asleep. He awoke with a start and opened his eyes to see her soft brown looking into his amber.

"We're here my love," she said softly

Erik smiled slowly and rose, taking Christine hands in his own and gently guiding him outside the coach. The moon had risen beyond the clouds and bathed the land all around them in pure white. The house stood in front of them; a tall building that seemed to loom out of nowhere but gave off an air of welcome. All around the garden lay a hedge and wrought iron gates parted them which lay open – the rust clearly visible but did nothing more than to add a rustic nature to the feel.

Christine let out an exclamation of surprise as it hit – it was their's.

Turning to Christine, Erik grinned and before she knew it she had been swept up into his arms and carried over the threshold into their new home. Chuckling she was placed down into the house, ready to acquaint themselves with their new home. A hall greeted them, the dark wood of the walls almost black in the darkness. Flicking on a near by light switch Erik was visibly startled as the room was bathed in bright, but soft lighting – the light being brighter than the candles he was used to down in the lair.

They walked through a door to their left and entered a library – the large bookcases, which framed each side of the room, brimmed with books – Nadir taking the opportunity to indulge Erik's love of books with a present of his own. Erik looked around slowly – a complete look of joy on his face. He turned to Christine again and was faced with a look that mirrored his own. Bowing his head, he kissed her deeply and she felt him smile into the kiss as he ran his hands lazily down the sides of her body, as gracefully as a cat nuzzles against its owner.

She mewed as he took her bottom lip and bit down slightly before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it, running his tongue across it swiftly. She snaked her hands up to his hair and ran her hands slowly through it, ruffling it.

When they parted for air, each was breathing heavily, their eyes mirroring each one's need. A smile slowly crossed Christine's face as she took him by the hand and guided him out of the room to continue the tour of their house. "Later…" she whispered, the pleasure unmistakable in her voice, but also a hint of cunning… _she's hiding something from me _Erik thought with a grin.

Next they came to the kitchen, a small room, furnished with anything they could possibly need.

Afterwards they came to a door – the wood carefully decorated with angels, devils and other mythical creatures. Erik ran his fingers slowly over the carvings, a look of pure wonder in his eyes – the architect in him adored pieces like this with a passion almost akin to his music. "Go on my love" Christine whispered; "I shall stay here"

Erik flashed a quizzical look at his wife, but the stubbornness in her eyes made him opened the door silently, the hinges giving with a soft squeal before stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. The only sound audible to her was a gasp of wonder and soft weeping as she let him take in the sights of that which was his music room. She knew it was his love, second only to her, and not by much.

Feeling for the switch he was again startled as light filled the room – what he saw in there took his breath away. Stacked carefully in the corner was all his musical notes, which he was sure he had left packed in the coach. A pot of ink lay on a small, wooden desk in the middle of the room, new paper and a new quill lay next to it. The wood on the walls complimented the door, carved angels and devils in highly detailed scenes adorned the room, making the tears fall down his cheeks freely.

But it was nestled up against the wall that made his knees almost buckle from under him. A tall organ resided there, its dark wood making it blend in with the room with utter clarity you would sometimes swear that it wasn't there at first glance. Its pipes adorned again with the scenes of heaven and hell. His own conflicting war, his own conflicting quest to find out what lay at the end of this life immortalised in the wood before his eyes.

The keys lay underneath a thick wooden case, the carvings smoothing out to leave it flat and smooth. He walked slowly over to it, as if it was a rare treasure, which he had waited all his life for. Running his fingers slowly over the wood he gently lifted the case up and was struck dumb by the whiteness of the ivories that seemed to call to him steadily. He ran his fingers over the keys, not pressing down but playing to a tune only he knew. He quietly pulled out the stool and sat down before burying his head in his hands and wept silently – never before had he ever felt so loved.

15 minutes later the door opened and he came out, the tears still falling slightly down his cheeks, a soft smile playing across his features. Seeing his wife's smile, he walked towards her and picked her up into his arms, before placing a kiss onto her forehead – her lips tasting the salt of his tears as they steadily fell.

"Why… how?" he whispered

"I have my means" she giggled; "You are not the only magician in this family!

_Family…_ It hit Erik like a ton of bricks, for that is exactly what they were. He had a wife, and a child on the way, he was the head of a family and they had a house. He tried to fight back the tears of joy that threatened to consume him fully as the feelings flooded his soul, even better than the effects of even the best opiates he had sampled in Persia.

Taking his hand is his, he led her quietly up the stairs, theirs was the sweetest music he knew.


	21. The Best Music Of All

The walk upstairs was slow, each revelling in the closeness of the other, the heat and passion that sparked between them akin to nothing else in this world. Christine watched with rapt admiration, as she was lead by the strong but soft grip of her husband. She watched him struggle slightly with his breathing whilst remaining a perfect mask of calm – it never seized to amaze her how he could mask his emotions to the outside world but remain as if he were a pane of glass under her gaze. Erik suddenly turned his head and locked eyes with her, the look in them made her knees buckle – a mixture of wanton lust and feral need; the need to be utterly and totally consumed by the flames that burnt between them.

A growl started deep in the back of his throat and suddenly Christine was pinned to the nearest wall, her hands held high above her head. Erik chuckled deeply as Christine let out a surprised squeal. In his eyes she saw forever – all the hurt and the sadness but also an overwhelming sense of love as his amber eyes showed everything and nothing – alive, bright and overflowing with emotions that even he couldn't hide. Oh how she loved him – how her heartbeat answered his, how her soul sung to his, making them whole in each other's embrace.

Erik kissed her softly, just a brushing of lips but enough to make both of them long for more. Biting back a moan Erik bent his head again, teasing – a lesson in self-control for the both of them. Tracing her bottom lip with his tongue he took it into his mouth, biting down slightly to elicit a moan from his wife. A smirk crossed his face briefly before he released her hands and ran his hands fleetingly down the full length of her body before cupping her cheek and looking into her eyes. Her brown eyes were slightly dulled, the longing evident in them.

Her breathing was slightly laboured as she tried to catch up with her body that was delightful betraying her with every soft caress of his dexterous fingers. The musician taking delight in bringing the music out her body like no other had or ever would again. He kissed her, deeply now as his own self control wavered slightly – his own body seeking out to fulfil the need that rose sharply in him.

"Christine…." He said in a whisper that betrayed the feelings inside.

She didn't give an answer; she couldn't give an answer. Instead she snaked her hands around to the back of his head and pulled his head to hers, kissing him passionately. His senses reeled as she took his tongue with hers and massaged it, eliciting a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan. She ran her fingers softly through his hair, stopping only to deftly undo the ribbon that held the white leather to his face. Breaking the kiss she removed the mask completely, holding it in her hands as carefully as an infant.

She saw him cringe slightly, a reflex borne of long years of ridicule and scorn, even now he could not suppress. She felt him take a deep breath and only then did he look down to meet her eyes. His amber eyes glowed with passion, mixed with fear and sadness but he could not disguise the love that was etched deep with them, deep within his soul.

"All or not at all…" Christine whispered and Erik nodded in acceptance.

She kissed him again, her free hand caressing the marred side of his face. To her he was beautiful, ever since she first saw him there was never going to be another, no matter how hard she had tried to run away from it – from him; he was the best part of her.

He broke the kiss and ran his tongue down the crook between her neck and her shoulder, stopping there for a few moments to inhale her scent – roses, and something naturally Christine. Letting out a contented sigh he made his way downwards, reaching behind her back and unbuttoning her dress until it pooled slightly around her shoulders but did not fall off, the heavy corset underneath keeping it in some sort of order.

Again he buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, which earned him an impatient groan from the woman beneath him;

"Patience is a virtue," he said with mock sarcasm.

Christine playfully swiped at his shoulder, which turned into a moan as Erik's tongue moved downwards covering the new space left in the wake of her dress. He covered every new inch thoroughly, methodically, the sounds coming from Christine's very soul spurring him onwards.

Christine arched her back slightly and pulled his head towards her with firmness, she needed him now – her blood running like liquid fire in her veins, his slow ministrations driving her half out of her mind as she gritted her teeth to try and quell the rising desire within her.

"Please…" she whimpered as he reached inside her dress and cupped her left breast, teasing the nipple with his fingers.

"Patience…" his reply came thickly as he continued teasing.

She lifted her right leg and wrapped it around him, pulling him closer, his hardness brushing against her thigh, causing him to buck forward involuntarily and hiss through clenched teeth.

"Patience eh?" she raised an eyebrow as she saw his self-control waiver slightly.

With a growl Erik had swept Christine up into his arms and guided her slowly to the room down the bottom of the hall – their room. With a grin he kicked open the door and nearly dropped Christine unceremoniously onto the floor as the sight inside took his breath away for the second time that night. The carvings had carried through into the bedroom and in the middle an ornate 4-poster bed, its cream draping almost luminous in the darkness.

A mock-annoyed groan from Christine brought him back to his senses with a thud, the heavy ache of his own desire welling up within him once more. He placed a fevered kiss onto Christine's lips and carried her towards the bed, the black silk sheets in deep contrast to the cool white of the drapes.

"I love you" Erik drawled quietly as he ran his hand slowly down Christine's cheek, making Christine bend to his touch – seeking it out as if her very life depended on it. So this is what it felt like to be loved; this is what it felt like to know some kind of peace; _this is living_.

A moan was her only response as she grabbed the back of his head and pull him to her, Erik quickly having to extend his arms to distribute his weight as she all but pulled him on top of her. She ran her hands underneath his shirt and pulled it over his head as she bent forward to run her tongue over his stomach. She gently eased them both up to a sitting position – as amazed by her own boldness as Erik was.

She ran her tongue across his chest and up to the crook of his neck. She stayed there for a moment, imitating Erik's earlier actions and taking in his scent. Kissing his lips she teased his bottom lip carefully, again imitating his actions. She carefully snaked her hand downwards, stroking him through his trousers, slowly and methodically. A loud groan escaped from his lips as it became almost unbearable.

"Open you eyes" she said thickly, her need too almost unbearable, her self control dissolving rapidly. He did, as he was bid and what she saw in them made her breath catch in her throat, made her heart skip a beat. In his eyes she saw his pleading, he wanted her, although he would never say it out loud - pride wouldn't let him. In his eyes she what words could not describe, pure and simple… _"Please…"_

She nodded slowly and Erik regained control deftly, growling softly as he placed her onto her back again and kissed her deeply on the lips. He pulled the rest of her dress down and made light work of her corset – his thin, musician's fingers working through the laces at almost breakneck speed. He reached down and unbuttoned his trousers. Pulling them down he kicked them behind him where they landed on the end of the bed with a thud. Taking Christine's dress and corset they joined his shirt and trousers on the far side of the bed.

He ran his hands expertly down her body, playing it almost as deftly as one would play the violin. Starting off slowly but reaching the crescendo that brought the very angels to their knees. Kissing her on the lips again, she reached down to where their bodies met and ran her fingers down the length of him, making him hiss and buck towards her again.

"Stop…" he broke the kiss, his voice strained, his breathing heavy, his heart hammering so fast that he was sure that she could feel it as it echoed hers.

He couldn't stand it anymore – his whole body screamed for release, his blood like liquid fire through his veins. The joining of minds: the joining of bodies: the joining of souls.

He thrust into her slowly but firmly making them both gasp at the final contact. He stood still, his mind calm, finally at one with the woman who was the best part of him, the only part that had ever made sense – the only thing pure in his otherwise unholy existence. He had done some things, been steeped in sin so far that he was sure he couldn't never be redeemed. But Christine made him reborn again, she who could make the God's weep at her beauty, of her body, of her soul.

It was all too much, this was all too much, it made him want to weep as she writhed underneath him, drinking as much passion out of his body as he was out of hers. His whole body stiffened as he cried out his release into the darkness before she herself did, his name never so holy as it sounded on her lips. He felt sleep tighten its hold on him as she pulled him close to her, his head resting on her chest as he took in the sound of her heartbeat – strong but steady; the music of the night indeed. He lay there for hours after she had succumbed to sleep, listening to the rise and fall of her chest. He felt his child moving about underneath him, and a smile settled onto his face as he mused again on what it would like to be a father. Tomorrow he was one day closer to finding out…


	22. Desperate Times Desperate Measures

Raoul opened his eyes slowly, the light burned his eyes sharply and he quickly shut them again with a groan. He lay there for a while before with a growl he shrugged off the covers and got unsteadily to his feet. Questions niggled at the back of his mind and the murders of some of his closest men niggled at his soul but still he would not be swayed. Raoul De Chagny always got what he wanted, and what he wanted was Christine Daae. Clearing his throat he took a deep breath and shouted for his maid – his loud timbre shattered the peacefulness of the air around him. Elisabeth came hurriedly to her master's room, with a hesitative knock on the door she walked in slowly, her head facing the floor. From the air in the room she could tell her master was not in a good mood. She had experienced these kinds of moods before and knew how to react so as not to goad him into something he might regret later.

"Send for François" came his voice, sleep still tainted it slightly as it cracked slightly as he spoke.

Elisabeth swallowed; François was not someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of, he was the desperate measure for the desperate man and she knew it. _So it had come to this? _She thought to herself. Nodding quickly she turned her back and started to walk out of the room. A hand, tight on her shoulder, stopped her before she got to the door. Raoul bent forward slightly, the stubble on his cheek grazing Elisabeth's ear as he spoke, low and dangerously

"And you'll do it quickly, and you'll not let anyone know where you are going and what you are doing, too much rides on this Elisabeth" the way he drew out her name made her feel afraid for a moment. She nodded again and swallowed audibly, her legs threatening to give out underneath her as she made her way quickly out of the room, glad to be out of there but the sense of foreboding over what she was about to do was almost consuming.

She had become fond of her mistress and had seen her almost as a daughter during her brief time at the house. She was heartbroken at her sudden departure and had seen Raoul slip into the guise of a person she didn't recognise in order to shield his broken heart – he had become almost like the man he hated so passionately. She knew the truth however, she knew one had to follow their heart and her mistress had. Even she could see that it was not to her master that her heart belonged – even if her master himself was oblivious to the fact before his life came crashing down around his ears.

She crossed herself quickly and sent up a prayer to the gods to keep her mistress strong, to keep her safe for she knew that to summon François was to send them into the jaws of death one last time, the final time. She made her way silently down the stairs of the house to send a messenger to send word to François that his undeniable skill was once again need.

He came within the hour, the promise of considerable wealth after the task as much of an incentive than the job itself - here was a man that enjoyed his work. He stalked up to house and knocked on the door before clearing his throat, straightening his tie and fingering the blade that lay in his top pocket. The door opened slowly and Marcelin's head poked round the door – his eyes grew wide as he saw the man who stood in front of him, he found himself shivering as he stared as if looking at Death himself. Marcelin was young, no more than 16 but even he showed distrust to the man who stood before him. François removed his wide brimmed hat and bowed stiffly before flashing a toothy grin at the boy. This did nothing to ease Marcelin's nerves and only served to make him more on edge as he opened the door more to allow the man the step inside and out of the rain, which slowly fell from the sky.

"Fran…François" his voice came nervously

"Don't just stand there boy! Lead the way! I have been brought here for a reason and I don't have all day"

Marcelin nodded and tried to apologise but his words were dismissed or unheard as the older man followed the younger upstairs to where Raoul no doubt stood waiting for him

At the sound of his voice, everyone in the hall went silent, all eyes fixed on the man who stood next to Marcelin – no one dared breath as he walked past them all. Eyes followed him slowly and only when he was out of breath did they breath a sigh of relief.

When they had reached the room, Marcelin knocked on the door and waited. Only when he heard his master's voice bidding them to enter did he give a quiet nod to Françoise who made his way inside, leaving Marcelin outside alone. Taking a deep breath, he crossed himself and went quickly downstairs to questions and rumours from his fellow servants.

François removed his hat once more and bowed to the younger man in front of him

"You sent for me monsieur" came his voice, low and dry.

"I have a job for you" Raoul replied, surveying the other man.

François was a tall, thin man who was clean-shaven. His nose long and straight set off his dark narrow eyes; he looked as dangerous as he was. His long hair slicked back behind, tied neatly back in a dark blue ribbon. His cloak hung over him and leather gloves adorned his hands.

"Yes?" François said, sarcasm clear in his voice.

"You know very well I do" Raoul growled. "You are to find my fiancé and the man to whom she is now wed and when you do, you are to bring him back and the other… is yours to do whatever you want with, you have my word."

François nodded, a murderous glint in his eyes, his tongue playing over his lips thoughtfully.

"Any information on their whereabouts?" he said slowly, "Otherwise this is akin to finding a needle in a haystack. How are we sure that they are even _in _Paris monsieur? How can we be sure that they are even in _France_!"

"They were last seen heading out of Paris, they won't be very much further than that. Her _husband_…" he felt the bile rise in his throat as he uttered the word "Will not like it. He killed 4 of my best men and made their way out of the city. Search around, make sure you find them, it is important Françoise."

Raoul chucked a sack full of gold down onto the table; "This is for your trouble, there will be more when you return with my wife, and _his head on a spike_!" he growled, before regaining composure at the thought of his Christine coming back to him. It was time; vengeance would be his.


End file.
